


A Model Christmas

by palominopup



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Gay Sex, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-01-07
Updated: 2016-01-26
Packaged: 2018-05-12 10:28:15
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 9
Words: 48,284
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5662978
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/palominopup/pseuds/palominopup
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Media Mogul, Castiel Novak, as an encounter with hunky firefighter, Dean Winchester.  Dean receives an offer to pose for one of Castiel's magazines, it's an offer he can't refuse.  Castiel is used to the finer things in life.  Dean is blue collar and hates rich people.  Will they be able to find love during the holidays?</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> I started this bit of fluff before Christmas, but like all good intentions....anyway, I've got the majority of this written. Hope you enjoy it and I will update again tomorrow. This is to all my FB friends at Destiel Forever - love you guys.
> 
> For those of you who like my stuff, I've created a FB group page. I'll post my stuff there and you can give me prompts. https://www.facebook.com/groups/550258875175871/

Castiel Novak pushed through the glass doors of Novak Publishing pissed off at the world. The receptionist gasped at his appearance, but at the look on his face, she refrained from commenting. The elevator seemed to take longer than normal.

  
His secretary looked up, her eyebrows rose. “Not a word, Becky.”

  
She nodded and held out her hand with a stack of messages. He opened his office door and slammed it behind him. Fifteen years. In fifteen years, he’d never been late to work. Oh, sure, he’d taken time off – not much – but some. He’d never been late though. It was all because he used a car service this morning instead of walking the three blocks from his Upper East Side apartment.

  
He dropped his brief case and sat behind his massive oak desk. Behind him, the plate glass window showed the New York City skyline. Before his computer could even come up, his door burst open and the small spitfire that was his VP in charge of publication barreled into the room. “What the fuck, Clarence?”

His eyes gave her the frostiest glare he could muster. It didn’t even phase Meg. She just plopped down in one of the chairs in front of his desk and waited.

  
“I took a car service, because I wanted to…” He suddenly found his fingernails very interesting. “…try one of those maple bacon donuts you were going on about the other day.”

  
Meg snorted. “That doesn’t explain the state of your suit, Castiel, or the reason you’re three hours late.” He looked up and grimaced. When Meg used his nickname, he knew things weren’t serious, but when she used his given name, he knew his friend was worried about him.

  
“The car I was riding in was hit at an intersection.” He raised his hands in a placating manner when she gasped. “Don’t worry, I’m fine. Just a bit dirty.”

  
“That can’t be the end of the story.”

  
“I got out to make sure the other people involved where okay and a large van drove by splashing up the mud and slush from the street, hence the state of my attire.” The suit was an Armani. One of his favorites. It was probably ruined.

  
“And…”

  
“And that’s it. Everyone seemed to be okay. New York’s finest showed up and the fire department was called. All in all, it was a cluster fuck.” Castiel leaned back in his chair going through the handful of messages he’d gotten that morning. “Did I miss anything?”

  
“No, I handled it. The new photographer for Hunk was here and I showed her around. The photo shoot for the December issue starts Monday, as you are no doubt aware. The November issue of Upbeat hit the stands this morning and we’ve already been flooded with calls about the cover. Harry and Ed returned from Cambodia and brought in the article and photo spread for Voyage. You’ll be happy with it. That’s about all.”

  
Castiel nodded sagely. Novak Publications housed three popular magazines. Hunk was a gay men’s magazine. Upbeat was a political satire periodical and Voyage was a travel magazine. Upbeat’s cover featured a flustered Donald Trump and the headline was ‘World Thinks Trump is a Dick’. He expected some fallout, but he didn’t really care.

  
“Thanks for handling things, Meg.”

  
“It’s my job.” She moved to stand, but narrowed her eyes. “There’s something you aren’t telling me.”

  
A soft smile touched his lips. Yes, he’d had a shitty morning, but when he’d seen the firefighter jump out of the truck…he’d smiled and he was perfect. “I have a special assignment for you.”

  
“This ought to be good,” Meg said, crossing her slim legs.

  
“One of the firefighters was model material. I want him for the Hunk December issue.” The man even asked Castiel if he was okay. He had been gorgeous from a few yards away, but up close…damn. Castiel saw hot male models on a daily basis, he’d even taken a few home from time to time, but there was something about that man. The name on the back of his jacket read Winchester and from his accent, he wasn’t a New Yorker. Castiel guessed the Midwest or even Texas. He watched him, his slightly bowed legs walking purposefully around the accident site.

  
Meg bark of laughter made Castiel frown. “You want him for the December issue or for your bed?”

  
“Since my gaydar is working perfectly, I would venture to say he wouldn’t want to be in my bed.”

  
“But you want him to take his clothes off for a gay rag?” Meg asked skeptically.

  
“Offer him double our usual model rate.” Wanting this conversation to be over, Castiel began to click at his keyboard.

  
Meg whistled. “Alright, he must be something else to shake up the unshakable Castiel Novak. Give me what you have.”

  
“His last name is Winchester. I will text you a photo.”

  
Meg chuckled softly. “Of course you took a photo.” She stood and paused at his door. “I’ll take care of the office, go home, Castiel. Take a hot shower and relax.”

  
After she’d gone, Castiel stood up and took in his view. After a few minutes, he went to his private washroom and winced at his reflection. His suit was splattered with dried mud. New York streets weren’t the cleanest. Add a few inches of snow and you had a mess.

 

Dean Winchester sat in the dayroom half listening to Garth talking about the new kitten he’d rescued from the shelter. The shift had just started and after forty-eight hours off, Dean was antsy for a call already. He picked at the laces of his boots, mind wandering to his fight with Sam yesterday. As fights went, it wasn’t a bad one. Sam and his wife, Tessa, set him up on a blind date. A blind date with an attorney. She was hot, but she was all about her manicure and the price of her clothes. A label whore. Dean wanted a partner that he could go hiking with, go riding in Central Park with – not some rich bitch who’d be afraid to break a nail. He was polite, but he’d drank too much. Sam was pissed and Dean told his brother he could find his own damn dates.

  
“Winchester, you have a visitor.” The chief’s secretary called out over the din of the television. Dean stood, confused. Who’d be visiting him at work? “I put her in the conference room.”

  
Her? God, please don’t let it be Lily…Lilith…whatever her name was from the other night. Dean opened the door and the petite brunette gave him a once over like he was a piece of chocolate cake and she was on her period. “Can I help you?”

  
“Dean Winchester?”

  
“That’s me,” he said, giving her his most charming smile.

  
She held out a business card and he took it, but before he could even read it, she spoke again. “My name is Meg Masters, I’m the vice president in charge of publication at Novak Publications. Perhaps you’ve heard of us?”

  
“Upbeat? Right? Sure, loved the last issue.”

  
She smiled. “Yes, Upbeat is ours. We have two others as well.”

  
“While this has been pretty informative, what do you need with me?” Dean asked, curious.

  
“Do you remember an accident on the morning of November 2nd at the corners of 72nd and Madison?”

  
Dean slipped his hands into the pockets of his uniform pants and shrugged. “Yeah. Typical fender bender. No one was hurt. Just snarled traffic for a couple of hours.”

  
“Castiel Novak was in one of the cars. He noticed you and thought you would be pretty enough to grace the pages of the December issue of Hunk magazine.”

  
He couldn’t help it. He laughed. “Okay, who put you up to this?”

  
Her smile was tight, professional. She ignored his question. “Mr. Novak has authorized me to offer you $250 per hour, with a $5,000 additional fee at time of print.”

  
“Two hundred…are you fuckin’ kidding me?”

  
“I assure you…I don’t joke about money.”

  
“Let me get this straight…you’re going to pay me $250 an hour to take pictures of me for some magazine?”

  
“Well, you aren’t as dumb as you look,” she said sarcastically.

  
Dean cocked a brow at her. “This sounds like bullshit.”

  
She opened her purse and took out a manila envelope. “Here is the contract. Look it over and give me a call no later than end of business tomorrow. If you decide to accept our offer, I will expect you to show up for work on Monday morning. I will give you more details once I hear back from you.” She stood and left him standing there.

  
Later that night, Sam stopped by the fire station. Dean pulled him into the chief’s empty office. “Thanks for coming, Sam.”

  
“You said you needed legal advice,” Sam said, his voice cool.

  
“Seriously, you’re still pissed about the other night?”

  
“Dean, you got drunk on a date with one of my colleagues. You told her that her lipstick made her look like a cheap hooker.”

  
Dean tried to look ashamed, even though he wasn’t. “Yeah, sorry about that. Maybe next time you won’t set me up on a blind date.”

  
“Whatever. Tessa is waiting dinner on me, so what do you need?”

  
He pulled out the envelope. “I have a contract here that I need you to look at.”

  
Sam took it and pulled the legal documents out. He leaned against the chief’s desk and began to read. Dean watched his eyes scan the pages. Sam looked up at him questioningly a few times, but kept reading. When he was done, he folded it back up.

  
“Well?”

  
“Well, what? It’s a standard modeling contract. The fees are a bit higher than normal and models usually don’t get any additional fees at time of publication. Novak Publications are one of the big boys, Dean. What is going on? Why do they want you to take your clothes off?”

  
Dean choked. “What? No one said anything about taking my clothes off.”

  
“Have you ever heard of Hunk Magazine, Dean?”

  
“No.”

  
“It’s a magazine for men.”

  
“Like Playboy?”

  
“More like Playgirl, but for guys.”

  
“Huh?” Dean wasn’t following the conversation. Playgirl was pictures of naked men for women to look at…but for guys. Understanding dawned. “Oh.”

  
“It’s a lucrative contract, Dean. Hell, when I was in law school, I would have jumped at the chance.”

  
“You aren’t gay, Sam. I’m not gay.” He was not totally straight either, Sam knew it but chose not to reply.

  
“Doesn’t matter. Even straight male models pose for these magazines all the time.”

  
“So, they want me to take my clothes off and pose for this magazine?”

  
Sam was looking at him like he was dense. “Yes, Dean. The contract states that you will model for a spread in Hunk.”

  
“And you would do it?”

  
“Yes. That kind of money could come in handy.” Dean could really use the money. A few of the guys from the station wanted him to go in with them on an investment property.

 

Meg barged in his office. He looked up from the invoices he was going through. “It never ceases to amaze me how you have never learned to knock.”

  
“Knocking is overrated.” She dropped into a chair and smiled. It was one of her Cheshire Cat smiles – the ones that say ‘I know something you don’t know’. He wasn’t going to take the bait. He went back to the invoices until she huffed in frustration. “You are no fun.”

  
“So I’ve been told,” Castiel said dryly.

  
“I got an interesting phone call just after lunch today,” she said, looking at her scarlet painted fingernails like they were fascinating.

  
“You do realize I have work to do, right?”

  
“Would it hurt you to play along every once in a while?”

  
“Yes, it would hurt me deeply,” Castiel teased.

  
“Your fireman called.”

  
Invoices forgotten, Castiel leaned forward. “And?”

  
“He said he would do it.”

  
Castiel grinned and Meg rolled her eyes. “You are nuts. You know that, right? This is a lot of money so you can see a straight guy naked. With your looks and money, you could see hundreds of beautiful models naked and get to touch them. What’s this guy got?”

  
“I don’t know,” Castiel stated honestly. “I just don’t know.”

  
“He’s a bit older than our usual models, Clarence. Older and you really don’t know what he looks like under all that sexy firefighter gear. Our subscribers expect eye candy.”

  
“Winchester is an all American male. A firefighter. Our subscribers are going to love him,” Castiel countered with a nod that told her the conversation was over.

  
Castiel came into the office on Saturday. The building was quiet. The security guard greeted him, but Castiel didn’t see another soul. He took the elevator to the sixth floor where the offices for Hunk were located. In the layout room, he found what he was looking for. The storyboard for the Christmas layout was tacked to the wall.

  
He hadn’t always been the CEO. Castiel started in the mailroom when he was eighteen and his father was at the helm of Novak Publications. Back then, it was just Voyage and a few magazines that catered to housewives and a few more fashion magazines. When Castiel’s father stepped down five years ago, due to a weak heart, Castiel took over. Profits soared as Castiel streamlined production and Upbeat was born. When it became the hottest selling magazine in the US, Castiel decided he was ready to bring Hunk to life.

  
The storyboard was good. He paid people good money to put out a great product. He pictured the firefighter in the hastily drawn poses. Dean Winchester. Now he knew his full name, thanks to Meg. Through an internet search, he found out a few other details about the man. His Facebook page wasn’t private, so Castiel had cyberstalked the man. He was an Aquarius, thirty-seven years old and single. By his photos, Castiel had no doubt that the man was straight. There were plenty of lovely ladies gracing Winchester’s friends list. He wasn’t sure why he was doing this, but he wasn’t going to back down.

  
Castiel made some notes on the production team’s storyboard and left the building. He walked home. Even in early November, the storefronts were already decorated for Christmas. Things were so commercialized now. Castiel couldn’t remember the last holiday season he’d really enjoyed.

  
At home, he poured himself a glass of white wine and loosened his tie. It wasn’t until his doorbell rang that he remembered he had a date tonight. He opened the door to Luc. The man smiled and pulled Cas into a heated kiss. Castiel pulled away. “You aren’t dressed,” Luc said, obviously put out.

  
“Sorry, I went into the office today and honestly, I forgot about our plans.” Castiel was still wearing his suit pants and his white dress shirt, though it was now unbuttoned at the neck. His shoes were off and he was just in his black socks.

  
“Maybe we should stay in. We could order something and we could amuse ourselves in the bedroom while we wait for delivery.” Luc pressed against him and a wave of revulsion rolled over him. Luc was nice to look at. He’d been good in bed, though a bit rough. They’d been sleeping together for the last six weeks. But right now, Castiel wasn’t feeling it.

  
“We need to talk,” Castiel said, backing away. “Would you like a drink?”

  
“Why do I get the feeling you are going to tell me to fuck off, Castiel?”

  
“I wasn’t going to put it so crudely.” Castiel’s eyes met Luc’s, his hand holding up a bottle of Scotch.

  
“Someone new already?” Luc asked belligerently.

  
“No, Luc. I just don’t think we are going anywhere.”

  
Luc laughed, but there was no humor in it. “I wasn’t aware you wanted this to go anywhere. I thought we were just warming each other’s beds. Does the great Castiel Novak want to settle down, find Mr. Right and adopt a few brats?”

  
“I’m not sure what I want, but right now, this isn’t it. I hope we can remain friends, Luc.”

  
“Fuck you, Castiel.”

  
Castiel didn’t put the bottle of Scotch down after the door slammed shut. He looked at it and with a slight shrug, poured himself a few swallows into a Waterford Crystal tumbler. He hadn’t intended to break up with Luc tonight, but the kiss made him feel cold inside. Was Luc right? Did he want to settle down and raise a family? He looked out his window at the lights of Central Park. He rested his forehead against the glass. He was forty and had never truly been in love. God, he was pathetic.

 

Dean looked at the gold letters on the glass doors and pushed them open. The lobby was warm and he shrugged off his jacket. Not feeling his usual bravado, he walked up to the reception desk. The pale, black haired woman looked up at him and smiled.

“Can I help you?”

  
“I’m supposed to meet Meg Masters at eight.”

  
“Your name?”

  
“Dean Winchester.

  
She checked her monitor and nodded. “Yes. Take the elevators to the sixth floor. I will let Ms. Masters know you are on your way up.”

  
Dean began to have second thoughts as he rode up to the sixth floor. What was he doing? Before he could press a key to stop the elevator, it swished open and Meg Masters stood there. “Prompt. I like that in a man. Follow me.” She abruptly turned and Dean had no choice but to follow her. Along the walls were covers of Hunk Magazine. Dean looked at them as they walked by, damn, the models that graced the covers were smokin’ hot.

  
Meg led him to a large open room. On one side was an area that Dean assumed was where they’d be taking his picture. There was a Christmas tree, a large brass bed, boxes of tinsel, a fake fireplace and a lot of people milling around.

  
“There’s the dressing room…” she pointed to a closed door. “Strip down and put on one of the robes.” She didn’t even hang around to see if he complied. He opened the door and looked around. It looked like backstage at a runway show. And yes, he’d been backstage at a runway show because they’d had a call about the smell of smoke during a huge fashion event. There were a few other men in there in different states of undress.

  
One looked up from where he was shaving his junk. “Hi, you’re new. I’ve never seen you here before. I’m Cole. I’d shake your hand, but…” he laughed, indicating the disposable razor in his hand.

  
“Dean. Do I have to do that…shave my…”

  
“Not sure. Crowley will let you know.”

  
“Crowley?”

  
“Yeah, he’s the set coordinator. He comes across as a dick…okay, he can be a dick, but mostly he’s all talk and no action. Get my drift?”

  
“Uh huh.”

  
Cole was studying him. “Have you ever modeled before?”

  
“I had my picture taken for the Firefighters of NYFD calendar for two years running,” Dean boasted with a grin.

  
Cole laughed. “Okay then. Just take off your clothes and stow them in one of the empty lockers. The robes are over there.” He pointed and Dean’s eyes followed his finger. There was a coat rack with several thick, white robes on it.

  
Dean turned his back on the room and began to take off his clothes. He stripped down in front of his crew all the time, why was he so nervous?

  
“All right, Ladies. Hurry it up. We are paying you and the photographer by the hour. Let’s go.” Dean turned to look at the man who was shouting at them. He was bearded with dark hair. A snotty accent and a fancy suit. Dean caught the man’s eye.

  
“You must be our new boy.” He strode over to Dean and looked him up and down. “A bit old, aren’t you?”

  
“Hey, I’m only thirty-seven.”

  
Several heads jerked up. “Thirty-seven? What was he thinking?” The man muttered. “You’re pretty, but damn. Hurry up and get those pants off. I need to see what I’m stuck with.”

  
Dean was offended. Sure, he was pushing forty, but he kept himself in shape and he sure never had a problem getting laid. He pulled off his pants, leaving his black boxer briefs in place.

  
“Turn around.” The douche made a spinning motion with his finger and Dean turned in a complete circle. “At least you have a nice package. Now, hurry up and get those off…” he indicated Dean’s underwear. “…put on a robe and come on out. You are on deck for the second time slot.”

  
Still in his underwear, Dean walked over to get a robe. Once he was back by his clothes, he tugged off his briefs.

  
When he stepped back out into the open area, Meg was talking to the asshat. She looked up at him and waved him over. When he got closer, he saw a series of sketches tacked to a wall. They were of a nude man in a series of positions with a Christmas theme. “He’s old, Meg.”

  
Dean clinched his fists. He’d show the motherfucker old. He took a step closer, but felt a hand on his shoulder. He spun, fist lifted. A vaguely familiar man held up both hands in surrender. “Easy, Mr. Winchester.”

  
“Sorry,” Dean apologized and tried to place the guy.

  
“My name is Castiel Novak and this rude gentleman is Fergus Crowley. Don’t listen to him, please. You are perfect for what I want.”

  
Dean heard a snort behind him and turned. The guy introduced as Crowley was trying to look innocent and Meg was wearing a smirk that rivaled any Sammy could pull off. Dean turned back to Novak. He remembered him now. The accident…the guy was comforting people when the engine pulled up. He was attractive, but it was his eyes that had Dean riveted. He couldn’t seem to articulate a sentence.

Castiel was going to remain in the background during Dean’s shoot, but after he heard Crowley’s rude remark and saw Dean’s fists, he had to quickly step in. Dean looked like he could have knocked Crowley out completely and that would have been a disaster. For all his personality flaws, Crowley was good at what he did.

  
Seeing Dean up close and personal like this was causing his normally sharp mind to shut down. Without a helmet, the firefighter’s hair was a beautiful brunette that he’d spiked up with product and today he wasn’t clean shaven. The scruff made him look almost edible. Castiel liked the models to always be perfectly groomed, but Dean…no Dean would be shot like this. He wished the photographer could capture the fire that was in his eyes when he was glaring at Crowley. Of course, a picture like that wouldn’t make it into the Christmas issue, but it would be tucked away in Castiel’s nightstand drawer.

  
He heard someone clear their throat and he pulled his eyes away from Dean’s vivid green ones. Meg was grinning and Crowley was looking back and forth between them.

  
Castiel took a deep breath and turned back to Dean. “My ideas for your shoot are simple, Mr. Winchester. Most of the poses are risqué but not blatant. We’ll add a few nudes towards the end and one or two where you are…aroused.” Dean’s eyebrows flew up.

  
“What?” The word was more of a croak. Castiel’s eyes met Meg’s.

  
“Meg, did you forget to mention something important to Mr. Winchester?”

  
“Everything was in the contract, Castiel. I assumed he read it.”

  
“Did you read the contract, Mr. Winchester?” Castiel asked the man, who was looking a bit green.

  
“Uhm…I skimmed…my brother…he’s an attorney…he…uhm…read it.”

  
Castiel pursed his lips and put his hands on his hips. “Well, this poses a problem.”

  
“He signed the contract, Castiel. Now, we are behind schedule. Can we get this show on the road?” Meg’s tone was irritable. He knew how she was with scheduling.

  
“I’d like to have a private word with Mr. Winchester, please.” Crowley and Meg were both looking at him as if he’d lost his mind. And right now, he didn’t blame them. He led Dean into Crowley’s office and shut the door. “Mr. Winchester…”

  
“Dean…it’s Dean.”

  
“Dean. I am terribly sorry about the misunderstanding. Meg should have done a better job of explaining things to you. Hunk Magazine caters to gay men. Gay men who like looking at beautiful men. While I keep it tasteful, I have found that peppering the issues with men in various states of arousal sells magazines. Please be assured that you will not be posing with another man. I would never put someone like yourself into a situation that he is uncomfortable with.”

  
“Having a hardon in a room full of strangers makes me uncomfortable,” Dean said matter-of-factly.

  
Castiel, duly chastised, sighed. “As I said, I do apologize.”

  
The room was silent. Dean was shifting his weight from one foot to the other nervously.

  
“Dean, if you want to back out…I will completely understand and trust me when I say there will be no legal ramifications.”

  
Dean raked his fingers through his hair and gave a growl of frustration. “I just don’t think I can…get it up…ya know?”

  
Castiel gave him a gentle smile. “I will make sure the set is cleared except for Crowley and the photographer…and myself.” Castiel wasn’t sure why he added that last part. The man was already ready to bolt.

  
“Fuck…alright. Look, I’ll try, but I ain’t making any promises.”

  
Castiel let out the breath he hadn’t realized he’d been holding. “Excellent. Let’s begin before Meg has a complete meltdown. Let me assure you, that is not a pretty sight.”

  
“She’s a real…” Dean pulled himself up short and Castiel laughed softly.

  
“Meg can be a real bitch, but she’s also got a heart of gold. She keeps me sane for the most part.”

  
When he opened the door, Meg was gone, but Crowley was waiting with his arms crossed. “Crowley, set up the first few shots. When the time comes for the more intimate series, clear the set except for you, the photographer and me.” Castiel said a silent prayer that Crowley would not question him being on set. Very rarely did he come watch the shoots. Luck was with him, because all he got from Crowley was narrowed eyes.

  
“Hair and makeup,” Crowley shouted and Castiel hung back while Dean’s hair was restyled and makeup was applied to keep him from washing out under the bright lights. Castiel took a seat next to the set. The photographer was working with her camera.

  
“Excuse me.” She looked up. “I’m Castiel Novak. We haven’t been introduced.”

  
“Charlie Bradbury. It’s nice to meet you, Mr. Novak.”

  
“Meg showed me your portfolio and I was impressed. I hope you will like it here.” Their previous photographer had been caught propositioning one of the models. Meg fired him on the spot and she’d located Ms. Bradbury in less than twenty-four hours. That was why she was the vice president.

  
“I’m sure I will, Mr. Novak. I looked over the storyboards and there are a couple I’d like to tweak if that’s okay with you.”

  
“Feel free. I’ll be watching the shoot this morning and if we have different viewpoints, we can discuss it.”

  
In the first series, Dean was dressed in a red bikini brief and had a Santa hat placed jauntily on his head. He was lying across the brass bed, looking straight into the camera. Ms. Bradbury did a wonderful job of putting Dean at ease. They were talking about some mutual acquaintance named Ron Weasley and Dean was smiling openly. Castiel could hear the shutter clicking rapidly.

  
In the next set, Dean stood in front of the gaily decorated tree in a pair of white boxer briefs. He was holding a large candy cane. “Come on, Dean, look seductive. Look at the camera like you want to fuck it. Like you want to take it home and bend it over a couch.”

  
Castiel’s mouth opened in shock. The slight redhead had appeared so innocent. And Dean…the smoldering look he was giving the camera was making Castiel’s pants uncomfortable. The briefs left little to the imagination. Castiel could see the outline of Dean’s cock. Even flaccid, it was impressive.

 

The girl taking his pictures was funny and he felt at ease. She got him talking about movies and music and soon he’d forgotten he was half naked. They were both big Harry Potter geeks and Charlie even admitted that she shipped Harry and Draco. Dean argued that Ron was a better choice for Harry. By the second pose, he was comfortable and he’d even thought of it as a game. He looked seductive…the tip of his tongue barely showing. The steady click of the shutter relaxed him even more.

  
The third shot had him sitting on a white background sheet. He was naked, but a red blanket covered his junk. He was wearing the Santa hat again. Crowley had someone rub his skin down with baby oil, so he glistened under the lights.

In the next one, he lay on the bed and his junk was covered with silver garland. Crowley didn’t waste time with set changes and things flowed easily. Dean was very aware of a set of blue eyes watching every move he made. Instead of making him uneasy, Dean showed off even more.

  
When it was time for the nudes, Dean dropped the robe and stepped into position. In the first series, he stood with his back to the camera and looked over his shoulder, his hands were on the mantel of the fake fireplace and stockings were hung artfully. Candles burned in place of a roaring fire.

  
Then he was arranged on a white fur rug in front of the same fireplace, but this time they brought in gas logs and it looked like a real blazing fire. Charlie took a few shots of him on his stomach and then a couple more on his back. He was even getting used to Crowley coming close and arranging his arms, legs and yes, even his cock.

  
“Alright, ladies and gentlemen, clear the room,” Crowley shouted to be heard over the piped in Christmas music and the multitude of conversations. It took about ten minutes to get everyone out the door. Satisfied, Crowley clapped his hands. “Dean, Darling, do you need me to get one of our beautiful assistants to fluff you up a bit?”

  
Dean scowled. “No thanks. I can take care of myself.”

  
“Well, feel free. Time is money.”

  
“Dean, let me explain the shots before you get…ready. That way we won’t have to waste…it.” Charlie said hesitantly. Dean laughed.

  
“Yeah, don’t want to waste a perfectly good erection.” He was facing Charlie, but his eyes were really on Novak. The man hadn’t moved since they started the nude shots.

  
“In the first shot, I want you to pull your red thong down to just under your…balls and hold your junk in your right hand, thong in your left.”

  
“Got it,” Dean said.

  
“In the next one, you’ll be completely nude. Sit in the chair with your left leg thrown over the arm. The fireplace will be going behind you and I want your head to fall back a bit, like you are drowsy. We want you cock to be lying against your thigh. And can you make it…wet?”

  
“We have something that will simulate arousal,” Crowley piped up. “He doesn’t have to get all hot and bothered, just hard.”

  
Charlie was changing out lenses and Crowley was pretending to be busy to give him privacy. His hand moved up and down his shaft. Under his eyelashes, he watched Novak. The man was turned on. Dean could see the flush on his skin. Was that what this whole photo shoot was about? A rich dude wanting to get his eye full of blue collar dick? Novak hadn’t come across as an asshat like Crowley, but he was a rich bastard nonetheless. Not someone Dean would be interested in…no matter how attractive he was.

  
It wouldn’t hurt to fantasize though. Dean closed his eyes and imagined those blue eyes looking up at him. Novak on his knees in his expensive suit, taking Dean’s cock into that sweet mouth.

  
“Good,” Charlie whispered. Dean remembered the pose he was supposed to do and Charlie moved around him, the camera’s shutter whirring.

  
The pose with the chair was more difficult for Dean. Legs spread like that left him feeling very exposed. Crowley didn’t help matters when he grabbed his cock and smeared it with more of the cold gel. “Jesus, Dude, warn a guy when you’re going to grab his junk.”

  
Since his erection flagged, Dean had to once again, close his eyes and bring up his mental card catalog of masturbation fantasies. He ran down the list quickly, but for some reason, his thoughts kept returning to Castiel Novak. He opened his eyes and looked right at the man, his hand moved along his length. Novak’s eyes widened and Dean saw his eyes darken.

  
“Right there, Dean…that’s it. Imagine someone’s mouth on you…kissing…licking…” Charlie took picture after picture, dropping to her knees and taking different angles. When he opened his eyes again, Novak was gone. Dean tried not to feel disappointed, after all, Novak was out of his league. Not that the man would go out with someone like him anyway. He might want to slum it with Dean, a quick fuck on his fancy desk, but then he’d kick Dean to the curb. He couldn’t imagine Novak with his Rolex and expensive suits riding a horse in Central Park.

He’d held it together until Dean had looked right at him. He made eye contact while his hand was stroking his beautiful, hard cock. It was like he was taunting Castiel. When Dean closed his eyes, Castile made his escape. He got as far as the washroom down the hall. He slammed the stall door after making sure no one else was in the room. He hissed in relief when he unzipped his slacks. His hand shook as he pulled his cock through the slit in his boxers. He came quickly, in a heated rush that left him shaken and breathless. He leaned back on the door.

  
Castiel Novak was not a patient man, so waiting until Charlie brought in the thumbdrive on Thursday drove him to distraction. He couldn’t concentrate. At home alone in his apartment, he paced. He shot back Scotch like it was tax deductible. It seemed like his cock had a mind of its own. He’d debated finding someone…anyone…to drive into…to fuck until he couldn’t think straight. He even went so far as to stop off at a club, but after one drink, he felt like none of the men could satisfy him. None of them looked like Dean.

  
He took a cab and directed the driver to take him past the fire station on 85th. He’d sunk to a new low. Castiel Novak was stalking a city employee.

  
When Thursday arrived, he was humming with excitement. “What time will Ms. Bradbury be here?” Castiel knew the answer, it was marked in red in his datebook, but he wanted to sound casual, uninterested. Meg smirked.

  
“She called and said she couldn’t make it…”

  
“What?” The word was more of a high-pitched squeal than a question.

  
“Just rattling your chain, Clarence,” she said laughing huskily.

  
It was all he could do to keep from wrapping his hands around her neck. Her eyes widened and she took a step back.

  
“Man, you have it bad. Charlie will be here at nine, just like it says on your calendar. You might want to lock your office door and take care of yourself. I’d hate for the poor girl to see you as horny as a three-peckered billy goat.”

  
“Have I told you lately that I adore your quaint colloquialisms, Meg,” Castiel said, his voice dripping with sarcasm.

  
“You love me. I know you do,” she said before walking back to her office. Castiel returned to his, still holding the cup of coffee he took from the break room. He took a sip and coughed. He’d forgotten to put in cream and sugar.

  
Maybe Meg was right. He pressed his intercom button. Becky answered. “Yes, Mr. Novak?”

  
“Hold my calls.”

  
“Sure thing.” He locked the door and sat down on the leather couch. He took out his phone and pulled up Dean’s picture from the day of the accident. The time on his phone was eight-ten. He had fifty minutes. He pulled out his cock and closed his eyes. He imagined Dean stripping off his gear, hot, sweaty and dirty from a fire. Castiel would put his hands on those broad shoulders and push him to his knees.

  
His hand moved up and down. With his left hand he squeezed his balls. His lips parted and a soft moan escaped. His fist pumped faster and faster. He fumbled for the handkerchief tucked in his breast pocket. He felt the electric current singing through his veins. The white heat settled in his belly and his balls tightened. Cum splashed into the paisley printed square of silk. He let his head fall back onto the arm of the couch. How had he become so obsessed?

  
Castiel met Meg in the conference room. She was making sure the large screen on the wall was ready. A laptop set on the table. “Feeling better,” she asked, a knowing smile on her lips.

  
“I’m fine, Meg.” He opened his tablet and scanned his emails, letting her know that he didn’t want to talk.

  
Charlie came into the room at nine sharp. She smiled and tossed her messenger bag on the smooth ebony surface of the conference table. It sat eighteen, but since it was just the three of them, Meg had set up the laptop at the end closest to the big screen. “Morning. You ready for this. Damn, he’s hot and I’m not even into dick.”

  
“Crowley told me the session was intense,” Meg said, taking the thumbdrive from the photographer. She inserted it into the laptop and waited until it showed up in her directory. Castiel’s eyes were on the large screen on the wall. He saw the file marked simply as ‘Dean W.’ and held his breath. The file showed three hundred photographs.

  
Dean was suddenly up there in all his glory. Charlie had captured his smile, his freckles, his eyes. There were pictures of Dean laughing and it made Castiel smile. Some were of smoldering sexuality that made Castiel’s tired dick twitch. There were bashful grins, but then there was blatant desire. The man was a natural. They were halfway through the pictures before Castiel realized he hadn’t even looked at Dean’s body. It was his face that mesmerized him.

  
It was down to the last two series and Castiel found himself jealous of Meg seeing Dean like that. They had sat down together hundreds of times to go through the model photographs, but this time was different. This time it was personal. He felt hot under his collar and he ran his finger around the tight noose of his tie.

  
There he was, he looked wanton and he waited for one of Meg’s wisecracks about the size of his cock. She was notorious for commenting on size and shape. This time, she didn’t say a word. Castiel licked his lips as Charlie clicked the mouse from picture to picture.

  
Castiel hadn’t seen the last shots because he’d left. He’d all but raced out of the room. Charlie had got it on film though, Dean focusing on something or someone off camera. Then the final ones…the ones where Dean’s eyes were closed as he pulled on his cock, his puckered hole pink and slick from Crowley’s oil. Bared for everyone to see. The screen changed to the main menu. Charlie spun around in her chair. “Fabulous. Right?”

  
Meg turned to Castiel. “Well, Clarence. Is that what you dreamed of?”

  
He cleared his throat and did his best to sound like the professional CEO he was. “Great work, Charlie. We will be leaving out the last series though. Meg, forward me a copy of the entire file and I will decide which ones go into the issue.”

  
Meg waited until Charlie left before rounding on Castiel. “What do you mean we won’t be using the last series. Hard dicks sell, Castiel, or have you forgotten that because of your little crush?

  
“I’m still the CEO, Meg. I make the decisions,” he said evenly. Face hot, he strode out the door. Once he made it back to his private washroom, he pressed his face against the cool tiles.


	2. Chapter 2

Dean’s life went back to normal. He worked twenty-four hours and then was off for forty-eight. His time off was spent working around his house and partying with friends. He turned down a couple of dates. His reasoning was that it was too close to Christmas. Dating someone around the holidays meant you had to buy them a gift. It was just an uncomfortable situation.

  
He opened his mailbox on November 16th and saw the envelope from Novak Publications. He opened it right there by the street and whistled. Six thousand dollars. With the eight he already had in his savings account, he could afford to invest in the small local bar with his friends.

  
There was a post-it note stuck to the back of the check.

  
**_Issue goes on sale November 27th. Yours will be sent via messenger._**  
 ** _Meg_**

  
He hoped they sent it to his house. If the guys from the department saw that, they’d never let him live it down. They weren’t homophobic, not by a long shot. There was a rookie on C shift named Adam who was openly gay. He took a lot of ribbing from the guys on his squad, but it was all in fun. All rookies get ribbed unmercifully.

  
Back inside his house, Dean finished up his laundry and hung up his uniform. He packed his bedding and stuff for his shift and then ate some leftover spaghetti. His mom called him while he was loading the plate into the dishwasher.

  
“Hey, Honey. I wanted to talk to you about Thanksgiving plans.”

  
“I’m on shift, Mom.” His mother should have known that. She kept a calendar with his shifts marked out in yellow highlighter.

  
“I know, Sweetie, but I thought we could do our dinner on Friday. Sam and Tessa are both off work that day.”

  
“Sounds good. I’ll make the pies and the sweet potato casserole.” Dean made a note on his white board to pick up the things he needed at the store soon.

  
“Great.” She paused and Dean closed his eyes. Here it comes. His mother was known for her dramatic pauses. “Honey, will you be bringing someone?”

  
“I’m not seeing anyone, Mom,” Dean said softly, picking at the label of the jar of peanut butter he’d left out at lunch. A picture of Castiel Novak appeared in the front and center of his brain. He almost snorted. Like he would be comfortable sitting in his mom’s dining room eating turkey and stuffing. The man probably had a chef…or he dined out. Or if he had family, Dean imagined them in their stuffy designer clothes sitting down at a long table complete with a white linen tablecloth and china plates.  
“Sam said he fixed you up with one of the girls he works with.”

  
“Yeah, she was an attorney, Mom. She talked non-stop about her manicure and her designer labels.”

  
“Oh, Hon, I’m sorry. Your soulmate is out there somewhere.”

  
“Mom?”

  
“Yes?"

  
“What if it’s a guy…not that there is or anything…but would it bother you?”

  
“You beautiful, silly boy. Man or woman, I just want you to be happy. You know that, right?”

  
“Yeah.” He smiled. His mother was the best. “What about you, Mom? You bringing a date?”

  
The sound of her laughter always warmed Dean’s heart. There was a time when she didn’t laugh much at all. “I can’t find a man that is as wonderful as my sons. They are the only men in my life I need.”

  
“That don’t warm your bed, Mom.”

  
She gasped dramatically. “Oh, you…” She giggled like a school girl.

  
After they hung up, Dean flipped channels for a short time, but there was nothing on. He was going to try Netflix, but an idea formed and he picked up his laptop from the coffee table. He typed Castiel Novak into the search bar. He clicked on the images icon and the screen filled with pictures of the man. At charity events, interviews, sightings in restaurants. In most of the photos, Novak was with a group of people that were dressed to the nines. There were a few pictures of him with other men, but there was no way of knowing if they were together…together, since there was no touching. Dean clicked back to the web icon and found a few articles about the man.

  
After thirty minutes of scanning articles, Dean found out that yes, Castiel Novak was gay. He took over the company after his father got ill. The same father who’d died the previous year. He had a brother who owned a hotel chain and a sister who was married to a senator. Yep, upper class snobs.

  
He found one more article and Dean clicked on the photo gallery. This interview was conducted in the man’s apartment. There was a black baby grand piano sitting in front of a bank of windows overlooking Central Park. The furniture looked like something an interior designer would pick out. Dean looked around his own living room. His couch and loveseat were nice. He’d bought them new three years ago with his tax returns. The recliner had been a hand-me-down from his mom’s house. The most expensive thing in the room was his big screen plasma television. His eyes moved back to the picture. There was no television in that pristine room. He probably had a media room. Dean snorted.

  
The next day was crazy busy. He got to the fire house and hadn’t even stowed his gear when the alarm sounded. From then on, it was back to back calls. They didn’t even get lunch. It was Benny’s turn to cook dinner and he’d put red beans and rice in the crockpot. The aroma filled the station and when they got back from a small kitchen fire, Dean wanted to eat then and there. Benny slapped him away. “It’s only three, Brother. Have some chips or something.”

  
Dean rummaged in the pantry until he found a partially eaten back of chips. A piece of tape proclaimed that it was Kevin’s, the rookie on their shift. He had just flopped down on the worn couch when Garth’s voice came over the intercom. “Dean, Line Two.”  
Grumpy at being interrupted, Dean picked up the wall phone and punched the lit button. “Winchester.”

Castiel leaned back in his chair and stared at the file with Dean’s information in it. The firefighter had to fill out several forms for tax purposes. Since he wasn’t represented by an agency, Meg did a thorough job of getting all his personal data. Castiel knew that Dean was born on January 24th. He lived in Queens and owned his home. He’d been with NYFD for thirteen years, before that, he worked as a mechanic. His mother, Mary, was listed as his emergency contact. Dean had listed a cell number and a work number. He’d graduated in the upper percentile at the Fire Academy.

  
He pulled up his calendar and calculated the date of the accident. With Dean working on a three day shift rotation, he’d be working today. Castiel got distracted by an incoming email and instead of dialing Dean’s cell, he dialed the station’s number. It took him a few seconds to realize what he’d done. “Engine 271, Ladder 124, can I help you?”

  
“I…uhm…may I speak to Dean Winchester, please.” He should have hung up. Why didn’t he hang up and try the man on his cell phone?

  
“Hold please.” Elevator music played in his ear.

  
“Winchester.” Castiel froze. Dean was on the line. What did he say? How can a man with a Bachelor’s Degree in NYU, who graduated Summa Cum Laude be reduced to a mute idiot? “Hey, anyone there?”

  
“Yes…yes…it’s Castiel…Castiel Novak.”

  
“Oh…hey.”

  
“You are probably wondering why I called you. At work…instead of on your cellular device.” Cellular device? Oh, God…

  
“Yeah, I’m kind of wondering. You gonna to enlighten me?”

  
“I was…did you receive your check?” Castiel rested his forehead on his desk. He wanted to bang it against the wooden surface. Dean probably assumed he was an idiot.

  
“Uh huh. You usually call all your models to make sure they’ve been paid, Cas?” Cas?

  
“No.”

  
He heard Dean’s soft laughter. “You going to tell me what you really called me for?”

  
Castiel bit his lip. “Would you like to have dinner with me?”

  
The phone was silent for so long, Castiel pulled it away from his ear and stared at it. Had he lost the call? Had Dean just hung up on him? “Wow. Not expecting that, Cas.”

  
“I can assure you that I’m not usually this impulsive.”

  
“Now, that’s a shame. You see, I like impulsive dates. I’m spontaneous, Cas. If I said yes, would you pencil me in your little daily planner and then make reservations somewhere?”

  
Castiel looked down at his planner and slammed it shut. “No…not at all.”

  
“Liar.” Castiel didn’t pick up any heat in Dean’s voice. It was like he was teasing him.

  
“If you say yes, I would let you pick the restaurant,” he countered.

  
“Very good, Cas. Tomorrow night, seven. I’ll text you the details.”

  
“You don’t have my cell number,” Castiel said, dazed at how the conversation had gotten away from him.

  
“You have mine, don’t you?”

  
“Yes.”

  
“Send me a text and I’ll have it.” A loud sound burst through the phone and Castiel held it away from him. “Look, Cas, gotta go.”

  
Castiel hung up his office phone and reached into his brief case for his cell. He carefully typed in Dean’s number and saved it as a contact.

  
**Text to Dean/3:29 – Thank you for accepting my proposal.**

  
Castiel looked at it once more before sending.

  
He was settled on his couch with a book and a glass of wine later that evening when his phone chirped. He smiled. Dean had responded to his text.

  
**Text from Dean/7:04 – Let’s get through a date before you propose. ;)**

  
Castiel smiled. Dean had made a joke.

  
**Text to Dean/7:06 – Funny.**  
 **Text from Dean/7:07 – Yeah, I’m adorable.**  
 **Text to Dean/7:08 – You are quite handsome.**  
 **Text from Dean/7:09 – You say the nicest things.**  
 **Text from Dean/7:09 – My crew needs me. Goodnight, Cas.**

** **

Dean hung up the wall phone and raced for the bay. What had he done? He just agreed to go on a date with one of the upper crust. “Stupid, stupid, stupid.”

  
“Glad you finally recognized that, Brother,” Benny teased as he was pulling on his turn-out pants.

  
“Yeah, bite my ass.” The crew took their seats and Benny pulled the engine out on the street. The fire that was called in turned out to be a false alarm. Back at the station, the men sat around the big table and ate heaping helpings of Benny’s cooking. Dean didn’t get around to checking his phone until after the kitchen was cleaned up.

  
Cas’ text made him smile. Proposal? He knew what Cas was saying, but he had to tease the man anyway. They went back and forth and yeah, Dean was flirting a little.

  
“Yo, Winchester, movie time.” Dean typed out another text and then he followed the rest of the guys into the dayroom.

  
Strangely enough, they only had one call that night. It came in just after midnight. A car fire near the park. Snow was falling again and the crew grumbled. More snow meant more accidents and more fires. After lights out, Dean lay awake. He agreed to a date with Castiel Novak. He still didn’t understand how it happened. He’d opened his mouth to say no, with some lame excuse. The man even admitted to not being spontaneous. Dean wasn’t a planner or a list maker. This was going to be a disaster, but at least he’d get a good meal out of it.

  
The next morning, Dean left the station and drove out to his house in Queens. He’d bought the fixer-upper a few years back and had already renovated most of the downstairs. Today, he would be working in the master bathroom. He changed out of his uniform and pulled on jeans and a NYFD sweatshirt.

  
He was grouting the last of the tile in his shower when he heard the doorbell. He jogged down the stairs and opened the door. His mother stood there and she didn’t look happy.

  
“Dean Aaron Winchester, I cannot believe you,” she pushed past him and began removing her scarf and coat.

  
“What did I do now?” God, he sounded like he did in junior high when his mom caught him shoving Sam’s underwear in the freezer.

  
“Posing naked in a gay men’s magazine. Have you lost your mind?” Sam. He was going to kill Sam. It would be a slow death.

  
“Mom, the money was…”

  
“Money? Was this only about money? Did you need it that bad? I could have given you a loan.” Her voice had hit the high-pitched ‘Pissed Off Mother’ level.

  
“I’m not borrowing money from you and I didn’t really need the money. I wanted the money to invest in a bar with a couple of the guys. It was just a couple hours and I made six large.”

  
She froze, her left glove half off. “Six thousand dollars? For you to take your clothes off?

  
He grinned. “What can I say, Mom. I’m a stone cold fox.”

  
Okay, so he got wacked with a wool glove for that remark. “Dean, be serious.”

  
Dean shrugged and leaned against the counter. “What are you mad about, me naked in a magazine or me naked in a gay magazine?”

  
She pointed her finger and poked him in the chest. “Don’t you dare. You know I don’t care about that. I just worry about you. Will this cause problems at work?”

  
“The chief won’t tolerate hate of any kind at the station. Everyone knows that. And the district chief won’t rock the boat. It would give the NYFD too much bad publicity. I’m not worried, Mom. Most of the shots were real tasteful. And I was alone, not like I was making out with some dude.”

  
“Tasteful?” She looked skeptical.

  
“Yeah, only you can’t look at them, okay?”

  
She narrowed her eyes. “You said they were tasteful.”

  
“Mom, I’m naked. You haven’t seen me naked since…since…”

  
“You were eight.”

  
“Eight? I don’t remember that? You saw me naked when I was eight?” Dean felt his face redden.

  
“Dean, you were taking a bath with Sam. I was making sure you didn’t drown him.”

  
He poured his mother a glass of tea and then ushered her into the living room. He told her the whole story. Of course, he left out the part where he had an erection for one set of shots. He also left out any reference to Cas and the date. The date. He looked at the digital clock on his DVR. He still had plenty of time.

  
Mary Winchester finished her tea and stood up. “I still can’t believe one of my sons will be naked in a national magazine.”

  
“Mom, not too many gay men run in your social circles. I doubt anyone we know will even see the spread.”

  
She hugged him goodbye and he was suddenly worried about people he knew seeing him like that, spread open and hard. He said a silent prayer up to the heavens.

  
Dean finished the tile, cleaned up his mess and the showered in the downstairs bath. He still wasn’t sure where he wanted to have dinner. As he dried off, he gave it some thought. He remembered a small Italian place on Third Avenue. There was a small kitchen fire there a few months back. What was the guy’s name again?

  
Naked, he sat down on his bed and picked up his phone.

  
T **ext to Cas/5:03 – Tony’s Di Napoli on Third Ave. Seven. Meet you there?**  
 **Text from Cas/5:07 – I will pick you up. 6:45.**  
 **Text to Cas/5:08 – Dude, I live in Queens.**  
 **Text from Cas/5:09 – Don’t argue. Will be there at 6:30.**

 

Dean shook his head in disbelief. “Whatever,” he muttered. If the guy wanted to drive all the way out here, Dean couldn’t stop him. The bright side was that Dean could have a few beers and not have to worry about driving home. He shaved and splashed on some cologne. Then he finished dressing. He wore jeans and a green button down. He sat back in his recliner to relax and watch some television while he waited.

  
At 6:45, he was looking out the front window. When the limo pulled up, he released a bark of laughter. “No fucking way.”

  
He let the curtain drop. “Look, Cas, this isn’t going to work. Hey, Cas, something’s come up. Cas, you’re a great guy, but I’m moving to Miami.” The doorbell rang. He took a deep breath and opened the door.

  
“Cas, hey….” And the damn blue eyed fool held out a large bouquet of roses. Dean was lost. “You got me flowers?”

Castiel had a full blown meltdown at four. Becky had left crying. He would get her flowers tomorrow. Meg was scowling at him with her scary face. “What is your major malfunction, Castiel?”

  
“Ihaveadate.” She blinked as her ears separated the words.

  
“You have dates all the time.”

  
“Dean,” he whispered.

  
She laughed. The bitch laughed at him. If she wasn’t his best friend, he would have fired her right then and there. “You have a date with the hot fireman?”

  
“Yes.”

  
“So, what’s the problem?” You wine and dine him, fuck him senseless and tell him to go home. Easy peasy.”

  
“No, Dean’s not like that.” Or was he? Castiel really had no clue what the man was like.

  
She cocked her hip onto his desk, knowing he hated that, and crossed her arms. “Clarence, Dean is a fireman. He lives in Queens for God’s sake. He may be pretty to look at but you know this isn’t going to go anywhere, don’t you? Can you imagine him at a charity dinner…or by your side at the Christmas Party?”

  
Castiel steepled his fingers. Funny thing was, he could imagine Dean beside him at both of those occasions. “I never took you for a snob, Meg.”

  
“Oh, Clarence.” She looked at him pityingly.

  
“Meg, you can either help me prepare for this date or leave me the hell alone.”

  
“Okay, where are you going?”

  
“I have no clue.”

  
She huffed and complained, but in the end, she did help. Now, he was in the back of a limo. Meg said it would be classy to pick Dean up in it, but now he wasn’t sure. The bouquet of fragrant roses lay on the seat beside him. He checked his reflection in the tinted window separating the driver from the rear of the car. He couldn’t remember ever being this nervous.

  
The car pulled up in front of a very modest house. The homes were very close together. Castiel took the flowers and exited the car. “We will be right out.” He told the driver. He swallowed, counted to ten and strode up the walk. The snow crunched beneath his Prada shoes.

  
He rang the bell and the door opened within seconds. Dean was clean shaven and dressed casually. Castiel looked down at his suit and cursed his life.

  
“Cas, hey….” Castiel thrust the bouquet at him. “You got me flowers?”

  
“I thought it would be nice. It’s our first date…maybe that was foolish. You’re a man…” He looked down at his feet.

  
“No, flowers are cool. No one’s ever gotten me flowers before.

  
They stood awkwardly staring into each other’s eyes. Finally, Dean gave him a shy smile and took the flowers. “Would you like to come in, so I can put these in water?”

  
He moved aside and Castiel entered the house. The front door opened right into a small living room. A huge television was the focal point of the room. There were family pictures on the walls. Dean left him to stand there while he disappeared down a short hall. He heard water running and assumed Dean was in the kitchen. A couple of minutes later, Dean returned holding a glass pitcher filled with water, the roses filled the opening. “I don’t have a vase, so I had to use my beer pitcher.” He sat them on the coffee table. “Guess we should get going, huh?”

  
“Yes,” Castiel said stiffly.

  
Dean picked up a thick coat from a hook beside the door and indicated that Castiel should lead the way. He locked the door behind him and followed Castiel to the limo. As they settled into the leather seats, Castiel pressed the intercom button. “Tony’s Di Napoli on Third, please.”

  
The firefighter turned in the seat so he was facing Castiel. “Gotta tell you, Cas. Never rode in a limo before.”

  
“Oh…” He should have just hired a less pretentious car service. “…I usually have a car service…”

  
“I guess working in the Upper East Side means you don’t need a car.”

  
“No, I usually walk to work except in inclement weather.”

  
Dean raised an eyebrow. “Inclement weather…damn, Cas, you like using big words, doncha.”

  
“Why do you do that?” Castiel asked softly, his head tilted to the side.

  
“Do what?

  
“Pretend to be uneducated.”

  
Dean crossed his arms. “I don’t have a fancy degree, Cas. I’m a firefighter.”

  
“You graduated at the top of your class at the Fire Academy. I did some research, you don’t just learn how to throw water on fires. You learn engineering and an amazing amount of science. Firefighters aren’t stupid, Dean.”

  
“You looked at my file?” Dean’s question was more of a statement, so Castiel chose not to read more into it.

  
“I wanted to get to know who you were.”

  
“Why? Why are we doing this, Cas? I’m not your usual date. I own one suit and it’s for weddings and funerals. Your watch cost more than I make in six months. Is this some sort of game to you? Fuck someone from the wrong side of town?” Dean’s voice was more of a growl as his tirade ended.

Dean shouldn’t have gotten so bent out of shape. He’d checked out Cas online. He was no different. When he finished his rant, he was ashamed at the look on Cas’ face.

  
“This isn’t a game to me, Dean. There was just something about you…” He looked down at his hands. “When I went through the photos, I’d gotten halfway through before I realized I was focused on your eyes and your smile, not the poses, not your body…” He swallowed. “I’m sorry if you assumed that I asked you out to get you into bed. That was not my intention.”

  
Well, damn, Dean felt like an asshole. “Look…”

  
“I will have the driver take you back home.” Cas’ finger was poised over the intercom and Dean’s hand shot out and covered the button.

  
“No. Let’s just…see where this goes.” Dean was rewarded with a small smile and it did something to his insides.

  
They were quiet for the remainder of the trip, but Dean wasn’t uncomfortable. The limo stopped and the door opened. The driver stood aside so Cas could exit first. Dean followed. “Will you require my services later, Mr. Novak?”

  
“Yes, if you could wait.”

  
“Sure thing. I’ll be parked over there,” the driver said, pointing to the parking lot of a bank, now closed for the evening. Dean wondered if the limo company charged by the hour. He couldn’t imagine how much money Cas was dropping on this date.

  
The two men entered the restaurant and were greeted by a smartly dressed woman in her mid-forties. “Good evening. Do you have reservations?”

  
“No, but could you tell Gino that Dean from NYFD is here.”

  
“Of course.” She left them standing there.

  
Castiel inclined his head. “Do you think you can get us a seat without reservations?”

  
“Watch and learn.”

  
The general manager, who had been very appreciative towards Dean and his crew, came out from the kitchen. He was a huge man, just as round as he was tall. His smile was wide. “Fireman Dean…it is so good to see you.” They hugged.

  
“Did you make the rigatoni for your mama?”

  
“I did, Gino. Thanks for the recipe. She loved it.”

  
“Of course, she did.” Gino stepped back. “You come here for dinner?”

  
“Yeah, but I didn’t make reservations.” Dean leaned down, he stage whispered to Gino. “I’m trying to impress my date, Gino, can you find me a table.”

  
Gino looked at Cas appraisingly and then back to Dean. “I have a table for you. Follow me.” Gino led them through the crowded room to a secluded nook. There was a table for two set up. “Sit…sit…I will send Mia to serve you.”

  
After Gino left, Cas smiled. “Consider your date impressed.”

  
An attractive Italian woman approached their table. “Good evening, my name is Mia and I’ll be your server tonight. Can I start you off with something from the bar?”

  
“I’ll have a Peroni. Cas, what’ll it be?”

  
“I’ll have a glass of your house red, please.”

  
After the waitress left, both men picked up their menus. Since Dean planned on paying for his part of the meal, he studied the menu carefully, no need to go crazy. Dean settled on his choice and put the menu down. Castiel put his down a few seconds later. “Know what you want?”

  
“I believe I’m going t have the Linguini with seafood.”

  
Mia returned with their drinks and they placed their order. Dean had decided on the Baked Ziti. Dean watched Cas take a sip of his wine. Another reason they shouldn’t be doing this. Cas was wine and caviar…Dean was beer and barbecue.

  
“Why did you want to become a firefighter, Dean?” Okay, this is how most dates went, you asked each other questions. Dean could handle that.

  
“When I was just a kid, our house caught on fire. Dad shoved Sam…my little brother…in my arms and told me to get out. He and mom barely made it out.” Dean shrugged. When I graduated high school, I had my head up my ass and decided I’d had enough school, so I got a job in my uncle’s garage. When he sold it, mom encouraged me to go after my dream.”

  
“You aren’t from New York, why here?”

  
“I watched all the shit from 9/11 and it was something I had to do. I moved here after I got accepted into the academy. Sam came here after he graduated from Stanford Law School and got a cush job. Mom sold the house in Kansas about five years ago and bought a place up here so she could be closer to Sam and Tessa. She’s hoping for grandkids.”

  
“What about your father?”

  
Dean picked up his fork and began to tap it against the spoon. “Dad and Mom split not long after the fire. He remarried and is living in Atlanta.”

  
“Do you still see him?”

  
“No. He made his feelings perfectly clear when he left us.” Cas didn’t need to know anything else. “What about you? Family?”

  
“I lost my mother to cancer when I was in second grade. Dad was busy with the company, so me and my siblings were raised by a series of nannies. Dad passed away last year. I have a brother and a sister, we are pretty close.”

  
“Nannies, huh? That sucks?”

  
“Not really. Dad tried to be there, but he was building up the company for our future. The women who took care of us were nice for the most part.”

  
“Did you always want to follow in your father’s footsteps?” Mia appeared then and placed the steaming plates in front of them.

  
“Enjoy.”

  
Dean looked down at his plate and realized that he was starving, but he wanted to hear Cas’ answer, so he waited.

  
“When I was very young, I wanted to be a cowboy. As I got older, I realized that wasn’t a realistic goal. My father gave me a job in the mailroom while I went to college. I found that I liked the publishing business, so I stayed. Gabriel and Anna chose to pursue other careers.”

  
“Gabriel and Anna, brother and sister, right? He owns some hotels and she’s married to a senator.”

  
“Someone else did their research, I see,” Cas said, a smirk on his face. “Yes, Gabriel took over one of my father’s smaller investments and made it into the Angel Hotels. Anna is an artist in her own right, but yes, her husband is a senator.”

  
Cas took a bite of his food and moaned softly. “This is amazing.”

  
“So, your dad made you start in the mailroom? Bet you were pissed. Dad owns the company, you’d have thought he’d have parked you in a corner office.”

  
Cas tilted his head, studying him like a bug under a magnifying glass. Finally, just as Dean was getting uncomfortable, he spoke. “My father wanted me to learn from the bottom up. You can’t run a multimillion dollar company unless you know how it runs, Dean.”

  
Dean felt chastised. “Yeah, guess not.”

  
They talked a bit more about their jobs while they ate. After they pushed their plates away, Gino came to their table with a single chocolate dessert and two forks. “On the house.”

“Gino, you didn’t need to do that,” Dean exclaimed, but he was eyeing the dessert with something akin to lust.

  
“Just a small token of my gratitude. I trust your meal was satisfactory?”

  
“It was awesome. You won’t be able to get rid of my now.” Dean’s boyish smile was charming and Castiel found himself wanting to see it again and again. He wanted to be the one to put that smile there. Dean might have other ideas though. It seemed Dean was not fond of Castiel’s financial situation. He felt inferior somehow.

  
After the restaurant owner left, Dean picked up the forks and handed one to Castiel. Castiel had never shared a dessert with anyone before and wasn’t sure of the proper etiquette. The chocolate confection sat in the middle of the table and Dean took a bit, letting his fork slide seductively out of his mouth. Castiel quickly looked away. The noise Dean made was sexual and Castiel felt his pulse quicken. “Damn, Cas, you gotta try this. It’s freakin’ orgasmic.”

  
Castiel opened his mouth, but he could not seem to form words. Instead, he got a bit of the tart. It was very good and he said so.

  
“Good? Cas, seriously… have another bite.” Dean lifted his fork and pushed the small piece of tart into Castiel’s mouth. At the same time, they came to the realization of how intimate that act was. “Sorry…just got carried away,” Dean murmured, blushing so sweetly that Castiel had to fight the desire to lean across the table and kiss him.

  
“Quite alright. And you are correct, the dessert is orgasmic.”

  
“Freakin’ orgasmic, Cas,” Dean corrected with a flirty grin.

  
“My mistake…freakin’ orgasmic.”

  
Mia brought the bill and laid leather folder in between the two men, Castiel and Dean reached for it at the same time. “Dean, I asked you out, therefore I am paying.”

  
“No, Cas, we’re splitting it.”

  
“No.” Castiel pushed Dean’s hand away.

  
“Yes.” Dean tried to snatch the folder out of his hand. Childishly, Castiel put it behind his back. Dean stared at him disbelievingly.

  
“I cannot believe you.”

  
In an unheard of playful manner, Castiel lifted his ass and sat on the folder. Then he cocked an eyebrow at Dean.

  
“Cas, that is so beneath you, Man.” Castiel gave him his most serious boardroom face while he reached back for his wallet. He pulled out his gold card.

  
“Let’s make a deal, Dean. I ask you out, I get to pay. You ask me out, you get to pay.”

  
Dean chuckled, “Is this your way of making me ask you for a second date?”

  
Castiel shrugged. “Balls in your court.”

  
Dean stared at him for what seemed like minutes, but was probably just a few seconds. “Challenge accepted. Saturday night.”

  
Castiel’s lips quirked and he nodded. “Saturday night.”

  
He pulled the folder out from under his ass and tucked the card inside. Mia arrived moments later and took the folder. When she returned with his card and the slip, he signed his name with a flourish and handed it to her with a smile. Gino came out of the kitchen and walked them to the door. He and Dean talked about recipes and herb gardens like they were old friends. “Fireman Dean, you bring your boyfriend back again soon. You make a handsome couple.”

  
Dean nodded. “Sure thing, Gino. You take care of yourself now.” Dean hadn’t corrected the man and Castiel tucked that memory away.

  
They walked across the avenue and the driver got out to open the door. Dean slid in first and Castiel followed. “Could you drive us around Central Park, please,” he said to the driver. He really didn’t want the date to end. To Dean he said, I’m sorry, I should have asked if you wanted to go home.”

  
“I’m not working tomorrow.” Castiel knew that. He knew because he worked out Dean’s shifts and they were highlighted in green in his daily planner.

  
The driver turned on East 65th and merged with the heavy traffic of New York at night. “I have a great view of the Park from my apartment.” Castiel bit his lip. Did that come across as bragging?

  
“Yeah, that’s pretty cool. You ever hang out there?”

  
“The Park? Yes. I run there most mornings before work.”

  
“Might’ve known you were one of those exercise nuts.”

  
“Surely you exercise, Dean. You have a great body and you must have to keep in shape for your job.”

  
“I thought you didn’t notice my body,” Dean teased.

  
“I said through half the pictures I didn’t notice your body. There were a few that were hard to resist.”

  
“What’s that like, Cas? Seeing naked guys all day long. Don’t you get…I don’t know…bored with it all?”

  
“You are a bit confused by my job, Dean. I very rarely go down to the sixth floor. Meg and Crowley handle the models. They only talk to me if there’s a snag or issue that comes up. When I see the models, usually they are clothed and on their way in or out of the building.”

  
“You look at the magazine, don’t you?”

  
“On occasion. I approve the covers and the content before an issue goes to print, but I don’t usually sit down with an issue.”

  
“Can I ask you a personal question?” Dean looked nervous and he turned his face to stare out the window.

  
“Ask me anything, Dean.”

  
“You ever sleep with any of the models?”

  
Castiel blew his breath out slowly. “That is a personal question.”

  
“Hey, look, if you don’t want to answer, don’t sweat it.”

  
“No, it’s a fair question. I have slept with a few over the years. I date occasionally, though not usually models.”

  
“Anyone serious?”

  
“No.” It was Castiel’s turn to look away. “I was pretty wild for the first year after I started Hunk. So many pretty men…throwing themselves at the guy in the big office. Then I realized that’s what it was all about, they wanted to be with me because of what I could do for them. I became a bit more discriminate in my choices of men after that. I’m not a saint, Dean. I have to attend various events and it’s nice to have someone on your arm…it’s expected really. What about you?”

  
“I’ve been in two relationships I’d consider long-term. I was with my high school sweetheart for about three years. We dated all through high school and for a year afterwards. She wanted me to be more than a mechanic."  He shrugged.  "When I moved here, I met a single mom, she was pretty cool and we lasted about a year. She didn’t like my job. Said it was too dangerous. I asked her not to make me choose. She did anyway.”

  
“I’m sorry.”

  
“Don’t be. It worked out for the best.”

  
“I have to confess that I’m confused.”

  
The driver was round the last block. “About what?

  
“When I asked you to dinner, I wasn’t sure if you were…if you liked…” Dean’s bark of laughter stopped him mid-sentence.

  
“You asked me on a date before you knew if I liked dick or not. That’s dangerous, Cas.”

 


	3. Chapter 3

“Well, if you reacted badly, I had plans to say that I just wanted to discuss another modeling job,” Cas said with a shrug.

  
“Mr. Novak, would you like to go somewhere else?” The driver’s voice came through the speakers.

  
“No, we can go back to Mr. Winchester’s house.” Wait? Cas was taking him home? He figured the man would ask him up to his fancy apartment and try to get him into bed. And the way Cas looked, Dean wouldn’t be complaining. They might not have a chance at a relationship, but a friendly fuck wouldn’t have been out of the question.

  
“Sure thing,” the driver replied and then the intercom was silent.

  
“So, you aren’t going to invite me up to your penthouse for a nightcap?”

  
“I don’t live in a penthouse…and does anyone still use the word nightcap?”

  
Dean laughed. Cas took everything so seriously, the way he talked and treated people. Except for the playful thing he did with the bill for their meal. It was freakin’ adorable how he looked so childlike as he shoved it under his butt.

  
“I just figured you’d ask me back to your place for a drink or something.” Dean emphasized the last word. Cas picked up on it and frowned.

  
“Dean, did you think I asked you out just to get you in bed?”

  
“Maybe,” Dean drew out the word, kind of ashamed now.

  
Castiel looked out the window, his shoulders hunched forward.

  
“Cas, hey, I’m sorry. I just thought…why else would a rich, good looking guy like you want to hang out with someone like me.”

  
“Maybe someone like me would like to get to know a funny and nice man like you,” Cas said so softly that it took Dean a few seconds to process the words.

  
“We still have Saturday.”

  
“Maybe that wouldn’t be a good idea, Dean.” The guy was still looking out the window, avoiding Dean’s eyes. Dean could see his neighborhood through Cas’ window. He had to fix this somehow.

  
“Nope, that wasn’t the deal, Cas. You paid for tonight and I get to pay for the next date. You can’t renege on our agreement.”

  
The limo stopped in front of Dean’s house. “Dean…”

  
“Hey, look, our first date is over. You gonna walk me to the door?”

  
He saw Cas trying to fight back a smile. “Very well.”

  
The driver opened Dean’s door and they both got out. On the porch, Dean stood expectantly. Cas shook his head at Dean’s expression. “What? Come on, Cas. You have to kiss me goodnight. You brought flowers, paid for my dinner…a kiss is expected.”

  
Hands in his pockets, Cas leaned forward and bussed Dean on the lips, then stepped back. “Goodnight, Dean.”

  
“Night, Cas. See you Saturday.”

  
Dean shut the door and watched Cas get back into the limo from behind the curtain. Castiel Novak was an enigma. Dean expected him to be a rich asshole, but Cas was far from that. He was nice and funny…sweet. Dean was still smiling as he drifted up the stairs.

  
The next morning, Dean installed the new sink and toilet. He stepped back. The bathroom was really taking shape. He took a break and fixed a late lunch. He wasn’t sure why, but he went back upstairs and took a picture.

  
**Text to Cas/2:02 – Renovations almost done. What do you think?**

  
He attached the picture and sent it before he could second guess himself.

  
**Text from Cas/2:05 – You did that yourself?**  
 **Text to Cas/2:06 – I’m multitalented, Cas. ;)**

  
So, yeah, he did the winky face.

  
**Text from Cas/2:07 – I love the tile.**  
 **Text to Cas/2:08 – Picked it out myself.**  
 **Text from Cas/2:09 – What is left to do?**  
 **Text to Cas/2:10 – Gotta rip out old tub and do a shower.**  
 **Text from Cas/2:11 – A claw foot bathtub would look beautiful.**

  
Dean chuckled.

  
**Text to Cas/2:12 – Not really a bathtub kind of guy, Cas.**  
 **Text from Cas/2:13 – I have a confession.**

  
Dean stared at the words on his screen. A confession. He was about to ask what it was when his phone dinged again.

  
**Text from Cas/2:15 – I love bubble baths.**

  
Dean laughed and dialed Cas’ number. He picked up on the first ring.

  
“Hello, Dean.”

  
“That is so gay, Cas. Bubble baths? When did you give up your man card?”

  
“I am gay, Dean. And there is nothing wrong with a man taking a bubble bath. It is very relaxing and can even be arousing with the right person.” And Dean’s mind dropped into fantasyland, didn’t pass go, didn’t collect two hundred dollars.

  
“I’ll have to…uhm…take your word on that, Cas.” Time to change the subject. “You at work?”

  
“I am. I was just getting ready to go downstairs and see the final layout for your photoshoot.”

  
“Yeah?”

  
“Dean…I can email you the layout if you’d like to see it before it comes out.”

  
“You let all your models check out the layouts?”

  
“You would be the first.”

  
Dean absorbed that bit of information and then responded, “No, you know what, Cas. I trust you’ll make me look good. I’ll wait until I get my copy.”

  
“I have nothing to do with making you look good, Dean. You manage that all by yourself.” Dean was going to reply with some cheesy comeback, but he heard a loud buzzing sound and someone was saying Cas’ name like they were pissed. Was that Meg? “I’m sorry, Dean, I have to get into a meeting that I’m already late for.”

  
“Bye, Cas.”

  
“Goodbye, Dean.”

 Castiel berated himself once he was back in the limo. Dean had hinted around that he was okay with going back to Castiel’s apartment for a damned nightcap or something. But no, he could get laid any time he wanted. He saw Dean differently. Dean wasn’t just a random piece of ass.

  
When he’d got home, he crawled into bed and spread his legs wantonly. Using the slim vibrator from his nightstand, he fucked himself. It wasn’t until he was panting and whispering Dean’s name that he touched his leaking cock. He was so wrecked by then, it only took a few pulls to bring on his release. Masturbating to images of Dean was becoming a habit.

  
Castiel was preparing for a meeting with Hunk’s production staff to see the layout of the December issue when Dean’s text came through. He read the words and then looked at the picture. Was there anything the man couldn’t do? Castiel leaned back in his chair and smiled as they sent flirtatious texts back and forth. And then Dean called, teasing him about his appreciation of bubble baths. He was enjoying their conversation so much that he didn’t bother to see the reminder pop up on his computer screen about the meeting.

  
Meg’s irritated, “Castiel” had him snapping forward in his chair. He said a hasty goodbye to Dean and pressed the intercom.

  
“On my way.” When he walked into the conference room conversation stopped. “Sorry I’m late,” he said to the room at large and took his seat at the head of the table. He avoided Meg’s eyes.

  
As was the custom, they went through the issue from cover to cover, one page at a time. Usually, Castiel worked on answering emails during these meetings. He trusted his staff. They did fine without him, but this issue was different. Castiel made a few comments about the articles. He nodded his appreciation of the ad placements. He smiled at the humor column. He okayed the photo spreads. Then the center spread came up on the wall mounted monitor and Castiel could only stare. He’d seen the pictures, all three hundred of them, but to have eight pictures of Dean spread out on two pages was almost more than he could handle. When he didn’t speak, Meg clicked to the centerfold. Dean lay on the white fur rug, staring straight into the camera.  
“I have to admit I thought he was too old, but he did photograph very well,” Crowley said staring up at the screen. Castiel felt the green eyed monster clawing to get out. His fists were clinched in his lap and he had to breathe in and out several times before he could speak. “He will appeal to a different demographic of…”

  
“That particular spread turned out very good. Now, let’s move on,” Cas said hastily. They finished the page by page inspection and then Castiel announced he was fine with it. It would go into production on Monday and be on newsstands on the 27th. Subscribers would get theirs the day before Thanksgiving.

  
Meg followed him back to his office and shut his door. “Spill the details, Clarence.”

  
“Details?” Castiel knew he was being obtuse, but he didn’t care.

  
Meg looked a little hurt and he sighed. “He was a little shocked by the flowers, but seemed to appreciate them. In hindsight, I shouldn’t have gone with the limo. He has a problem with my financial status. Dinner was excellent and we shared a dessert. We drove around the Park and then I had the driver take him home. That’s it.”

  
“That’s it. No banging in the back of the limo? Damn, Clarence, that’s why I suggested it. Tell me you least got a hand job out of it.”

  
“Meg, I don’t discuss my sex life with you.”

  
“So, the answer is no then.” He gave her a frown and she shrugged. “Are you going to see him again?”

  
“Saturday. He’s planning the date.”

  
“Castiel, are you sure this is what you want? He’s not your usual type.”

  
“Maybe that’s the problem, Meg. My usual type has never been enough for me.”

  
The next day, Castiel knew Dean was on shift. He refrained from texting the man. While Becky was at lunch, Castiel sent a few of Dean’s pictures to the printer next to her desk. He’d loaded it with photo paper. They were now tucked into his briefcase.  
That night as he sat across from a few business associates at The Mark, sipping on a glass of wine, Castiel daydreamed. Tomorrow would be their second date. To say he was excited was an understatement. Castiel nodded when he was supposed to and answered the questions that were directed at him, but mostly he drank and thought about the pictures waiting for him in his briefcase.

  
Most Saturdays, Castiel would go into the office and work, but as he stood at the huge window overlooking the Park and drank his coffee that morning, he thought he might just stay at home. Still in his dark blue robe, he called a local bakery and had some muffins delivered. While he waited, he pulled on a pair of jeans he found tucked in the back of his closet. Staring at the racks of suits and dress shirts, he realized he didn’t have any casual clothes. He wasn’t even sure where the jeans came from.  
After he ate the muffins, he slipped on a pair of ankle boots and finished buttoning up the white dress shirt. He grabbed his wallet, phone and coat and took the elevator. He was on a mission.

  
The J.Crew store on Madison Avenue was busy, but he managed to flag down a sales clerk. “I need a few pairs of jeans, some casual shirts, some shoes…” Castiel eyes were drawn to all the colors. His wardrobe was black and white with a few shades of gray thrown in for variety.

  
An hour later, his American Express card had taken quite a hit. He walked back to his apartment holding three large shopping bags.

  
“Mr. Novak, would you like some help with those?” The building’s doorman stepped forward after spotting him.

  
“No, thank you, Zachariah, I’ve got it.” The doorman jogged ahead to call the elevator and it opened with a soft ding as Castiel reached it. “Thank you.”

Dean was going to see just Cas Novak was made of. This date would prove beyond a shadow of a doubt that they were not right for each other. He’d get to see how truly wrong Cas was for him and then he could put those blue eyes out of his mind for good.

  
**Text to Cas/12:01 – Picking you up in one hour. Dress warm.**  
 **Text from Cas/12:03 – I thought our date was tonight.**  
 **Text to Cas/12:04 – Spontaneity, Cas.**  
 **Text from Cas/12:07 – I will be ready.**  
 **Text to Cas/12:08 – Address?**

  
Cas sent his address and Dean pulled on his boots. He gathered his scarf and gloves, along with his heavy coat and got into the car. With Saturday traffic in the city, it would probably take him an hour to get to Cas’ place.

  
As he was on Grand Central Parkway when his phone rang. “Hey, Mom.”

  
“Hello, Honey. I have a large pot of spaghetti on the stove and wanted to know if you want to come over tonight. Sam and Tessa will be here.”

  
“Sounds good, Mom.”

  
“Great, I guess I’ll see you around six then.”

  
Dean was getting ready to say goodbye, but instead, he said, “Can I bring a friend?”

  
“Of course, you know better than to even ask. Is this someone…special?”

  
“I don’t think so,” Dean said, because Cas could never fit into his world. And he sure as hell wouldn’t fit into Cas’. After he hung up, he banged his hand on the steering wheel. Why’d he even suggest such a thing? Okay, so he wouldn’t even ask Cas and then he’d tell his mom that something came up and his ‘friend’ couldn’t come.

  
His watch told him he was ten minutes early. Cas’ building was one of the pretentious ones with the doorman in the red livery. He got out of the car and the man leaped forward. “Excuse me, but you cannot park here.”

  
“Don’t get your panties in a twist. I’m here to pick up Cas Novak.”

  
“Cas…Novak. You mean Mr. Castiel Novak. Is he expecting you?” He was looking down his nose at Dean and made a point to let his eyes roam over Dean’s jeans and black peacoat. Apparently, he found Dean lacking.

  
“Yeah, he is.”

  
“Wait outside and I will call Mr. Novak.” Damn asshat. Wouldn’t even let him in the freakin’ lobby. Dean fumed. Snow was falling around him. Perfect.

  
The uniformed bastard returned within minutes. He looked like someone shit in his Wheaties. Dean smirked. “Mr. Novak asked that you be buzzed up. Would you like me to park your car in the garage?”

  
“You ain’t touching my baby, Dude. She’ll be fine right where she is. We won’t be long.” Dean brushed past the man, who had to jog a bit to catch up. Dean got to the elevators and realized he didn’t remember which apartment Cas said he was in. “Which apartment?”

  
“Mr. Novak is in 11B.”

  
“Thanks.” Dean got on the elevator and the doors swished closed. Was he supposed to tip the guy? Oh well, the guy was a douche anyway.

  
Dean stepped out into the plush hallway. There were fresh flowers on a table by the elevators. He shook his head. He knocked on 11B and Cas opened the door. He was wearing a soft smile and…jeans. He really expected the guy to be wearing a suit. He’d actually hoped Cas wore a suit so Dean could show him they weren’t compatible. “Hello, Dean. I wasn’t sure what to wear, but I took a chance that it would be a casual date since it is early afternoon.”

  
“Yeah, casual is good.” Dean looked around the pristine apartment. Did anyone even live here? It looked like a furniture showroom or something. He automatically moved towards the black grand piano. “You play?”

  
“Yes. Do you?”

  
“Some, mostly I play the guitar. Mom made both Sammy and I take lessons.” Dean ran his fingers over the keys and then looked at the view. “Wow, some view, Cas. Bet it’s something else at night.”

  
Cas was standing next to him now. Their arms actually touching. “It is beautiful.”

  
Dean moved back and turned. “Well, we should head out.”

  
“Are you going to let me know what we are going to do?”

  
“Nope, it’s a surprise.” Dean watched Cas gather his wallet, phone and keys. After he locked up, they rode the elevator downstairs. They shared some small talk. Cas asked about his last shift and Dean told him the story of the old Vaudeville musician who’d almost burned his whole apartment down. Dean loved listening to the man’s stories and was sad when the old man said his two sons lived in Los Angeles and never came to see him.

  
“To be forgotten by one’s own children must be truly horrible.”

  
“Yeah, they don’t deserve a father like him.”

  
The elevator opened and Mr. Dickhead stepped forward. “Mr. Novak, I hope you have a good afternoon.”

  
“Thank you, Zachariah.”

  
Out on the sidewalk, Cas stared at Dean’s car. “What a beautiful machine.”

  
“Isn’t she though. She’s my baby. She was my father’s. He left her when he left us.”

  
Cas settled into the passenger seat and ran his fingertips over the dashboard. “You’ve kept her in wonderful condition. Dean was pleased at Cas’ reaction to his car.

  
Dean pulled out into traffic and grinned when Cas grabbed the door handle to hang on. “Remember, I’ve driven a fire engine screaming through these streets, you’re safe.”

  
Since Cas’ apartment was near the Park, it didn’t take Dean long to get to where he was going. When he parked in the designated area, Cas sent him a questioning look. “You ride?”

  
Dean cut him a sideways glance. “Yeah. Do you?”

  
“Since I was ten.” Dean’s plan flew out the window. Of course, a rich New York kid could ride. Probably took fancy lessons somewhere. “It was offered at the boarding school I attended.”

  
“Boarding school? You were sent to boarding school? What, were you some sort of delinquent or something?”

  
Cas narrowed his eyes and frowned. “No, I was a good student. Father sent both Gabriel and I to Sherwood Preparatory School after our mother died.”

  
Dean was floored. He couldn’t imagine his mom sending him and Sam away to school. “So, you never spent time in the city growing up?”

  
“Of course. Our summers and school holidays were spent here.” At Dean’s disbelieving look, Cas continued, “Dean, I would venture to say that your childhood was a lot more loving than mine, but I have no regrets. My father did the best that he could.”

  
“Alright, I’ll take your word for it. Come on, let’s do this.” Dean looked out the windshield. With the car stopped, the snow had settled over the glass. He opened the door. Cas followed.

  
As they trudged through the snow, Cas asked, “Do you ride often?”

  
“Not as much as I’d like. My schedule makes it hard, plus it’s not fun to ride alone.” Dean pushed the door to the office open and after he paid the fees and they signed a waiver against possible lawsuits, the two men were shown to the stable. Fifteen minutes later, Dean was leading them through the park. He rode a light gray gelding and Cas was on a roan mare. The jingle of the bits, the crunch of the snow and the creak of the saddle leather was enough for them. They didn’t talk for a while. It was freezing cold, but the snow had slacked off some. Dean turned in the saddle, “You okay back there?”

  
“Yes, just enjoying the view.”

  
“My horse’s backside ain’t much of a view, come on up here.” Cas nudged his horse forward until the horses were walking abreast. “My mom’s making spaghetti tonight.” Dean started…what had he just done. Time for damage control. “Not that you’d want to go or anything…just making conversation.”

  
“Were you inviting me?” Cas looked over at him, doing that adorable head tilt thing. Damn him.

  
“Yeah.” What was wrong with his fuckin’ big mouth? He looked away from those blue eyes that looked even bluer surrounded by the white landscape.

  
“I would love to meet your mother.”

  
“Great,” he said unenthusiastically.

Castiel was sure the trip to the stables had been a test of some sort. From his expression, the invitation to his mother’s for dinner came as just as much a shock to Dean as it had him. His first reaction was to say no. Meeting family members caused complications. But he sensed that Dean thought he’d make an excuse to say no.

  
They rode in companionable silence for another ten minutes, each deep in their own thoughts. “Dean?”

  
“Yeah?” Dean spared him a glance.

  
“If you are uncomfortable with me meeting your mother, I would understand.” Castiel had to give the poor man an out.

  
“Nah, it’s cool. She’ll probably fuss over you though.”

  
“Is that a good thing?” Castiel asked seriously. Dean chuckled.

  
“Come on, race you.” With a click of his tongue and a slap of the reins, Dean’s horse shot forward. Castiel squeezed his legs and his own mount increased its speed. They cantered through the snow, sending the white powder flying behind him. Dean’s face was red from the cold and his lips looked chapped, but he was grinning and Castiel himself smiling as well. Too soon, their thirty minutes was up and they returned to the stable. Their horses’ breaths visible in the frigid air.

  
After they turned in the horses and got back into Dean’s car, Castiel looked at him quizzically. “Is this part of the date over or are we going to spend more time together before dinner?”

  
“What do you feel like doing, Cas?” Castiel had to admit to himself that he liked Dean’s shortened version of his name.

  
“I could fix us some coffee or hot chocolate and we could sit by the fire to warm up.” He wasn’t sure Dean would accept his suggestion, so he stared out the passenger window at the traffic.

  
“Sounds good.” Castiel smiled at his reflection in the glass. As they neared his building, Castiel instructed Dean to pull into the garage.

  
“I have a slot down here, but I don’t have a car, so it remains unused.” Dean pulled into the slot marked 11B in yellow paint. They rode up the rear elevator until it stopped on the fifth floor. An elderly woman got on holding a small, white poodle. She smiled a greeting. Castiel nodded and Dean smiled.

  
“Cute dog.”

  
“Thank you, Young Man. Beatrice is a tad spoiled. We are on our way to the roof garden to walk around a bit.”

  
Dean looked at Castiel. “Roof garden?”

  
“Yes, we pay fees for the upkeep…” Dean was looking incredulous, so Castiel stopped talking. He was saved from further discussion by the ding of the elevator. “Saved by the bell,” he muttered, stepping into the hall.

  
He unlocked the door and headed straight to the kitchen. “Coffee or hot cocoa?”

  
“Coffee’s fine,” Dean said, following him. “Whoa, do you even cook in here, Cas?” Dean was eyeing his kitchen like it was a personal affront to his senses. Castiel looked around. The cleaning service had left fresh flowers on the counter, his French press was set up for its next use. Everything was spotless.

  
“Yes…of course…”

  
Dean laughed. “Name me the last think you cooked.”

  
“Uhm…I scrambled some eggs just last week.” Dean snorted. “I suppose you cook a lot,” Castiel tried for haughty.

  
“Yeah. I have to. I have to take a turn at the station and my mom made sure Sam and I could cook.”

  
“I mainly eat out or call for delivery,” Castiel confessed, feeling he failed another of Dean’s tests.

  
Castiel poured the water into the French press and fixed their coffee. Dean lifted a brow. “No Mr. Coffee, huh?”

  
“Who?”

  
“Never mind.” Dean wondered into the living room while Castiel finished preparing the beverage. He watched Dean go to the window and look down at the Park. He had his hands in his pockets and it pulled his jeans tight across his beautiful ass. Castiel stared, wanting nothing more than to touch Dean’s skin. He pulled himself back to the present.

  
“Cream or sugar? I have flavored creamers, as well.”

  
“Black,” Dean said, turning. He moved to the fireplace and grimaced before pushing the button that lit the gas logs.

  
Reading his expression, Castiel said, “I can’t very well have a wood burning fireplace on the eleventh floor, Dean.” He brought Dean his mug.

  
Dean perched on one of the chairs and Castiel sat across from him. Why had he never noticed the chairs were uncomfortable? “We can move to the couch.”

  
“Nope, got a better idea.” Dean stood up, sat his mug on the mantel and shoved the coffee table backwards. He grabbed all the decorative throw pillows off the couch and tossed them on the floor in front of the fire. “Come on, don’t be shy,” Dean said, lowering himself to the carpet. Castiel hesitated but then joined him. He felt strange. Dean smirked at him. He took Castiel’s mug out of his hand and sat it on the coffee table behind them. He took a hold of his collar and pulled him forward. He kissed Castiel. There was no tongue, no real passion. Castiel’s eyes were inquisitive. “Figured since it was our second date, we could get to second base.”

  
“And how do you define second base?”

  
“We keep our clothes on, but touch each other inappropriately.”

  
“I see,” Castiel said and moved closer. “So, I can touch you here…” Castiel moved his fingertip across Dean’s shirt where his nipple was. “Or here…” He trailed his hand up Dean’s thigh.

  
“Yeah…” Dean croaked and then repeated a bit more clearly, “Yeah.”

 

Dean didn’t expect Cas to play his game. He was just rattling his chain, but the man’s hand moving up his denim clad leg right to the edge of the end zone had Dean speechless. Dean wasn’t even sure how he got on his back with Cas grinding against his thigh, but Little Dean was happy and wanted to come out and play. He reached down to unzip his jeans and relieve the pressure, but Cas’ hand stopped him. “We’re supposed to keep our clothes on, aren’t we?” The motherfucker sounded so fuckin’ innocent, but Dean could see the gleam in his eyes.

  
Two could play at this game. “You’re right.” He moved his hand from his own crotch and cupped Cas’. Cas’ eyes widened comically. Dean grinned and winked. “Is this inappropriate enough?”

  
“Ye..Yes. I believe so.” Dean rolled over, effectively pinning Cas below him. He looked down into his eyes. What was he doing? Was he just trying to get a piece of ass? “Dean?”

  
Dean pulled his head back to the moment. “Yeah?” He let his hips roll slowly and seductively against Cas. There was no denying Cas was just as horny as he was.

  
“I think we’ve achieved second base. Should we finish our coffee before it gets cold.” Not what Dean was expecting. Cas wanted him, he was positive, but the man kept shutting him down. Feeling peeved, Dean rolled off the other man and sat up, brushing his fingers through his hair. He took a gulp of his lukewarm coffee and leaned back against the hearth, staring at Cas. He couldn’t figure the man out. “Why are you frowning at me?”

  
“Honestly? I’m just trying to figure you out, man.”

  
Cas sat up, adjusting his jeans with a wince. Dean smirked. Cas wasn’t used to wearing jeans and the ones he was wearing were painfully tight. Dean knew the man would be chafed in places he would regret later. “I’m not hard to ‘figure out’, Dean.” Dean thought the air quotes were cute as hell, though he’d never admit that to anyone. “I’m just a normal man, with normal needs, normal desires.”

  
“Yeah, about those desires. You keep shutting me down. I’m beginning to think you don’t want to have sex with me and I gotta say, Cas, it’s shaking my ego.”

  
Cas looked towards the fireplace. Dean could see the flames reflected in his eyes. “I’m not going to stroke your ego, Dean. You know you are an attractive man. Very attractive. At my age, I don’t just want a pretty face anymore. I want someone smart, funny, someone who challenges me.”

  
“Yeah, you’re really freakin’ old, Cas,” Dean teased. “There’s nothing wrong with sex between two consenting adults. Banging someone for the fun of it is one of the benefits of being a grown-up.”

  
“Is that what you want, Dean. A quick fuck before moving on to your next conquest?” Those piercing blue eyes were on him now. They were darker than usual…stormy.

  
“When you say it like that…” Dean said cheekily, but Cas’ expression didn’t change. “Fuck, Cas. You and I both know this thing…whatever it is between us…is just lust. You are Ivy League, Rolexes and limos. I’m a house in Queens, a blue collar job and Sunday football.”

  
“You are a snob, Dean Winchester,” Cas spat out as he stood up. Dean watched his retreating back heading for the kitchen with his coffee cup. It was only after he heard the sound of the mug being dropped into the sink that he jumped to his feet. Cas was staring at the backsplash over his sink, hands gripping the countertop, shoulders tense.

  
“I’m not a snob,” Dean said loudly. He thunked his own mug on the island.

  
“This was a mistake. You should just go, Dean.”

  
Dean was stunned. He stood, hands fisted at his side. “I…”

  
“Go.” Cas’ tone was more forceful this time. Dean pursed his lips angrily and grabbed up his coat, gloves and scarf. He felt pleasure at the resounding slam of the door. It was petty, but it felt good. He wasn’t a snob. Cas was just a rich fuckin’ bastard who never had a day’s struggle. Never wondered if the next paycheck would pay all the bills. Son of a bitch. He fumed the whole ride down and he didn’t even react to the snotty look from the doorman. It was only after he was on the sidewalk that he realized the Impala was in the garage. “Fuck my life,” he muttered before turning and going back in the lobby. Zachariah the Dick raised an eyebrow.

  
“Forget something?”

  
“My car’s in the garage, how do I get down there from here.” The asshole was giving him a look like he was shit on the bottom of his shoe.

  
“Back through that door, take the elevator to the garage level.”

  
When he entered his mom’s house later that evening, he was still pissed off. Sam and Tessa were sitting at the kitchen table making a salad. Mary was at the stove. She looked up and then peered behind him. “I thought you were bringing a friend, Honey.”  
“That didn’t work out,” he muttered, reaching down and grabbing a slice of carrot from Tessa’s pile. She slapped his hand playfully.

  
“Oh, I’m sorry. Did he have plans?”

  
“How’d you know it was a he?” He got the look, the one that said mothers know everything and their offspring are idiots. He didn’t even get an answer.

  
“Friend?” Sam asked.

  
“Yeah, I have friends,” Dean said belligerently.

  
Dean let himself into his house. He was glad the evening was over. His mom grilled him on his ‘friend’. Tessa was all up in the model gig, making lewd comments about where he put his Santa hat. He flipped on the living room light and debated about watching some television, but decided he wasn’t in the mood. Instead, he stomped up the stairs. His clothes from his disastrous date were on the bathroom floor where he’d left them before showering for dinner. He put them in the hamper and then decided he needed to start a loud of laundry. It was midnight before he deemed the house clean.

Castiel waited until Dean slammed the door before letting his shoulders slump. He’d been stupid to think he could have something with Dean…something more than sex. He showered the smell of horse off his body and then stepped into his huge closet. The bags from his shopping trip were sitting on the floor. With childish rage, he kicked them to the back and pulled out a pair of slacks and a dress shirt. After his tie was tied, he grabbed his coat and headed downstairs.

  
The offices were empty, cold due to the automatic temperature controls. He went upstairs to his office and worked, classical music playing on his computer, determined to keep Dean Winchester out of his head. It worked…for a while.

  
The next few days were purposely busy. Castiel pushed himself and his staff. By Wednesday, Meg had enough. She barged into his office like a tiny tornado. He didn’t even look up from his screen. “I’m not sure what has your panties in a bunch, but every employee in the building is getting ready to revolt.”

  
“They are getting ready to have a four day holiday, is so wrong to want to get some work accomplished before everyone leaves for Thanksgiving?”

  
“You’ve been a tyrant, Castiel.”

  
He looked at her over the reading glasses he rarely wore because of vanity. “Tyrant? That’s a strong word, Meg.”

  
“If the shoe fits.” Meg stood, feet planted, arms crossed. He felt contrite. Had he been such a bastard that his employees were unhappy?”

  
“I’ll send a company email letting everyone go at two today…an early holiday for everyone.”

  
“Speaking of Thanksgiving, do you have plans?” Now that the storm had passed, she plopped down in one of the chairs in front of his desk.

  
“Anna has invited me to her home, but I didn’t feel like flying to Virginia. Gabriel is in London at the opening of his newest hotel, so I shall remain here.”

  
“Alone?” Meg didn’t mention Dean and for that Castiel was grateful. She’d asked about the date on Monday and he’d just about taken her head off. For once, she’d kept her mouth shut.

  
“It won’t be the first time, Meg. I shall just work.”

  
“Come home with me.” Meg’s parents lived in upstate New York. They were a nice couple, doting on their only child, even if she was pushing forty.

  
“As attractive as that sounds, I shall have to pass,” Castiel stated, pointedly going back to his keyboard. Meg took the hint and left him in peace. He was walking to the small cafeteria on the first floor and passed the door to the loading docks. Today was the day the pallets of magazines were being stacked for delivery to the postal service. He pushed through the door and stood watching the forklifts stacking the boxes and boxes of the latest issue of Hunk. Dean. It was the first time he’d allowed himself to think of the man since he’d told him to go. As he got his coffee and a salad from the cafeteria, he wondered about Dean’s Thanksgiving. It was a family holiday and he imagined Dean sitting down with his mother and brother, a large golden brown turkey in front of him. He sat down at his desk and sent a text to the number he couldn’t make himself delete.

  
**Text to Dean/12:17 – I hope you have a wonderful Thanksgiving.**  
 **Text from Dean/12:19 – I’m working. Family thing on Friday.**

Castiel should have realized that. Dean’s shifts were still highlighted in his planner. A painful reminder of what he’d wanted out of their relationship. He wanted to reply, but what did he say? He sat his phone down on his desk and ate his salad, morosely staring at the city’s skyline through his window.

That night as he was leaving, Meg stopped him. “You going straight home?”

“Yes. Why?”

“Just curious.” Strange.

He walked the three blocks and nodded briskly to Zachariah when he opened the door to the building. “I’m terribly sorry, Mr. Novak. I didn’t want to let him upstairs, but he wouldn’t take no for an answer and calling the police would bring unwanted attention. I knew he was an…acquaintance, so I took the chance that you would not be too upset.”

“Who are you talking about?” Castiel was standing in front of the dithering man, trying to make sense of his words. He hoped it wasn’t Luc. He hadn’t heard from the man since that last encounter, but Luc was the type that would just try to…

“The man with the old black gas hog.”

“Dean,” the word was a whisper and Castiel sprinted towards the elevator. When the doors whished open on his floor, he counted to five to calm him breathlessness. In the hall, sitting on the floor by the entrance to his apartment, was Dean. He looked up as Castiel stepped closer. “Hello, Dean.”

“Cas.” Dean stood up, hands in the pockets of his black peacoat.

“What are you…why are you here?”

“You gonna invite me in?” Castiel realized they were still standing in the hall. He nodded and inserted his key in the lock. He pushed to door open and motioned for Dean to precede him into the apartment. Dean went right to the window. “I figured your view would be great at night.”

Dean hadn’t answered his question, but Castiel knew instinctively that now was not the time to push. He sat his briefcase on the dining room table, took off his coat and hung it in the closet by the door. He took the time to loosen his tie and remove his suit jacket. “Would you like some coffee?”

“No…I’m good.” Dean rubbed the back of his neck, but didn’t turn around. Castiel remained silent. “Meg called me.”

Castiel narrowed his eyes. “What? Why?”

“To tell me you’ve been shitty to your employees.”

“Just because she is the vice president does not mean she cannot be fired,” Castiel growled.

 

Sunday, Dean was miserable. He worked on the house, but instead of feeling the pleasure of working with his hands to accomplish something lasting, he likened it to a chore.

  
Monday, during shift, he stayed to himself. Benny and Garth asked him what was wrong, but he’d just brushed them off. When he wasn’t on a call, he was in his bunk playing Angry Birds or scrolling through Facebook. Tuesday on the way home from the station, he stopped at the grocery store and bought the stuff for his pies and the sweet potato casserole. His mom stopped by right before lunch. She held up a plastic container.

  
“I made chili last night and thought you might like some.”

  
He took it. “Thanks, Mom.” He stepped aside to allow her to come in.

  
“Are you still working in the master bath?”

  
“Yeah, ordered the tub today. Should be in by Saturday.”

  
“Tub? I thought you were going with a shower?”

  
Dean shrugged. “Just thought a tub would be nice. I’ll still have room for it after I do the shower.” He didn’t mention that it was Cas’ love of bubble baths that made him change his design.

  
“Oh, okay. Dean, what’s the matter?”

  
“Nothing,” Dean said, not meeting her eyes. She’d know he was lying if she saw his eyes.

  
“Dean Winchester, don’t lie to me.”

  
Fuck. The woman had super powers. “Don’t really want to talk about it.”

  
“You haven’t been yourself since Saturday night. Does this have something to do with your friend that didn’t come to dinner?”

  
Somehow, he found himself on his couch, with his mom perched on the edge of the coffee table, her hands holding his. And he was spilling his guts. She didn’t say a word until he was done. “Oh, hon.”

  
Dean gave her a smile that he hoped didn’t look like a grimace. “Yeah, well…”

  
“You can fix it.”

  
“Mom, did you hear anything I said? He’s rich. He’s used to the good life. Besides, he kicked me out of his apartment. Don’t think I’m going to get an invitation back any time soon.”

  
“I didn’t raise quitters.” He stared at his mother incredulously.

  
“Clichés, Mom? Really?”

  
“Nothing cliché about it. You aren’t a quitter.” She gave his hands a squeeze and stood up. “You’ll think of something.” She was putting her coat on by the door when she said, “I’ll expect him for Thanksgiving on Friday.”

  
Right. Like that was going to happen. Wednesday afternoon, he was watching HGTV’s Property Brothers because they were hot when his phone rang. Novak Publications came up on the caller ID.

  
“I’m not sure what happened between the two of you, but one day he’s googly eyed and the next he’s biting the heads off of everyone in the Goddamned company.”

  
“Hello to you too, Meg.”

  
“Not in the mood for niceties, Winchester. Just fix it.”

  
“Why does everyone want me to fix it? Cas is the one who broke it.” Okay, so that was a lie, sort of.

  
“Castiel is emotionally stunted. He will be going straight home today. The next time I see him, he better be googly eyed again, got it?”

  
“Googly eyed? Funny, I can’t picture the Cas Novak I know to ever be googly eyed.”

  
“You don’t know him well enough yet, trust me. I’ve never seen him like this. And as much as I loath to admit it, you are the reason.”

  
“I can’t make any guarantees, Meg.”

  
“Just try.”

  
So, Dean found himself threatening, begging and bullying the doorman to allow him upstairs. He waited for thirty minutes, ass numb from sitting on the floor. And then the elevator dinged and Cas walked out looking better than he had a right to.  
“Just because she is the vice president does not mean she cannot be fired,” Cas snarled after their tentative greeting, but there was no heat behind the words.

“You could hire a nicer person in her place,” Dean suggested helpfully. The hint of a smile told him Cas was open to negotiation about their…whatever this was.

“About the other night…”

“I may have been a bit harsh,” Cas said, cutting Dean off. Dean smiled and shrugged.

“Let’s chalk it up to water under the bridge and start again.”

“I think I may be open to start again,” Cas opened the fridge and took out two bottles of beer. He popped the tops off both and pushed one across the island towards Dean. Dean took a long pull and appreciated the expensive microbrew.

“My mother wants you to come to Thanksgiving dinner on Friday.” Dean just threw it out there and the sentence wavered in the air between them. Dean tried to act casual, taking another sip of his beer and leaning his hip against the island.

“What do you want?”

“Huh?” Dean’s brain stalled.

“You told me your mother wants me to come, but I want to know what you want,” Cas said, sounding just as casual.

Dean took a chance. He sat his beer down and walked around the island until he was in Cas’ personal space. He met his eyes, smiled and right before he kissed him, he whispered, “I want you to meet my mom.”


	4. Chapter 4

After Dean left on Wednesday, Castiel called Meg.

  
“You set me up.”

  
“You mad?”

  
“Thank you.”

  
“Ahhhh, so you and your fireman kissed and made up.”

  
“Something like that,” Castiel couldn’t help smiling and knew she could hear it in his voice.

  
“Then why are you on the phone with me? Why aren’t you in bed with him? Make up sex can be pretty damn amazing.”

  
“He couldn’t stay long. He’s on shift tomorrow.”

  
“He’s working on Thanksgiving? That sucks. I wanted you two to share the wishbone of a big ass turkey.”

  
“He’s a firefighter, Meg. They don’t get days off for holidays.” He threw her a bone though. “I’m spending Thanksgiving with him and his family on Friday.”

  
There was silence. “Meg?”

  
“You are going to meet the parents? Wait…I’ve got to sit down,” Meg said dramatically.

  
‘Very funny…I’ve met the…” Castiel stopped. Nope, he’d never met a date’s parents before.

  
Meg laughed with obvious delight. “You are so screwed, Clarence. Now, what about tomorrow? It is the real Thanksgiving. You doing anything?”

  
“I will probably work from home.”

  
“What are you taking to your fireman’s dinner? Wine? Dessert?”

  
Great, now Castiel had something else to panic over. It was bad enough that he’d have to meet Dean’s mother and other family members…God…how many people would be there? He had a brother. The brother was married. Kids? Castiel hoped there wouldn’t be children. He did do well with children. He never knew what to say or how to act. “Uhm…I am open for suggestions.”

  
“Ask your boy what you should bring. If he says nothing, bring his mother a gift like flowers or chocolate. Now, you own me for eight hours, Monday through Friday…it’s after eight and I’m not missing Arrow for you.”

  
“Arrow?”

  
“Forgot you were the television-less wonder. Two words…John Barrowman. Look him up.” The line went dead. Castiel shook his head at his friend’s dramatics.

  
The next morning, he did log into the office server and attempted to work, but his mind wandered. At lunchtime, he called the local deli for a sandwich delivery and when he got the answering machine informing him of the family holiday and that they were closed, he sighed. It was Thanksgiving.

  
**Text to Dean/12:08 – My favorite deli is closed. I’m starving.**  
**Text from Dean/12:09 – LOL Should have planned ahead and gone grocery shopping.**  
**Text to Dean/12:10 – I expected sympathy.**  
**Text from Dean/12:11 – Get a cab and come to the station.**  
**Text to Dean/12:12 – Are you serious?**  
**Text from Dean/12:13 – As a heart attack.**

  
Castiel raced into his bedroom and tossed his pajama pants onto the floor. He pulled on a pair of his new jeans and a nice, blue cashmere sweater. After attempting to control his hair, he called Zachariah and ordered a cab.

  
The taxi stopped in front of the fire station and Castiel paid the fare. He stood on the front apron for a few moments, not sure of what to do. A large bear of a man walked around the front of one of the fire engines and cocked his head. “Can I help you?”

  
Castiel stepped closer. “I’m looking for Dean Winchester.”

  
“Oh.” The man’s smile widened. “So, you’re the one.”

  
“Excuse me?” Castiel stopped in front of the man, unsure of himself.

  
“Dean mentioned a friend was stopping by because he was hungry and had no food in his house.”

  
“Guilty,” Castiel said with a wry grin.

  
“I’m Benny. Follow me.” The man turned and led the way around the large red truck. He looked sideways at Castiel. “You the one that tied him in knots last shift?”

  
“I’m not sure what you mean,” Castiel lied. It wasn’t his place to discuss their relationship with Dean’s co-workers.

  
“Cas,” Dean called out from the back of the bay. He was walking towards them.

  
“I found a stray standing on the front apron looking lost,” Benny said before tossing up a wave to Castiel before disappearing behind a door marked Office.

  
“Come on in and meet the guys and then I’ll feed you.”

  
“Are you sure I won’t be in the way?” Castiel was nervous. This was Dean’s workplace. Were they even aware that Dean was bisexual?

  
“Nah.” Dean pulled open another unmarked door and Castiel walked into a large room filled with couches and a large television at one end, at the other end was a large kitchen and a long table Castiel assumed was for meals. Men were sitting around the room watching football. “Hey, everyone, this is Cas…Castiel Novak.”

  
Someone turned the TV down and heads swiveled around to look at him. He nodded briefly. As one unit, the men stood up and made their way over to him. Dean took his coat and threw it over the back of one of the couches, then he was introduced and shook hands with everyone. While the introductions were taking place, Benny came back carrying a brightly colored box. The attention left Castiel and turned to the other man. “Mrs. Jenkins brought us a ham.”

  
“Cool,” Dean peered into the box. It was only then that Castiel noticed several plastic containers and boxes lining the counters in the kitchen. Dean took his hand and pulled him over to them. “People kind of feel sorry for us on the holidays, so they bring us stuff. We have a smoked turkey, fucktons of cookies, a couple of pies, a few casseroles…now a ham. We’ve been eating all day.” He got a plate out of the cabinet and handed it to Castiel. “Pick out your dinner and I’ll put it in the microwave. Save plenty of room for cookies.”

  
Castiel, still in shock that Dean took his hand in public…in front of his co-workers…didn’t move. Dean looked at him quizzically. He snapped his fingers in front of Castiel’s face. “You with me, Cas?”

  
“I’m sorry…” Castiel moved towards the containers of food, feeling like all eyes in the room were on him. Dean, seemingly oblivious to the tension Castiel was feeling, took a large knife and was cutting slices of the ham. He’d cut a slice, then cut a small bite for himself, then a small slice and then a bite for himself. Castiel stopped in the midst of putting some mashed potatoes on his plate and stared, a soft smile playing on his lips. “Haven’t you already eaten?”

  
“Dean eats constantly,” the smaller man Dean had introduced as Garth said with a chuckle. “He’s a bottomless pit.”

  
“I shall have to remember that,” Castiel replied. Benny moved closer, as did a few others.

Dean knew inviting Cas to the station was like waving a red flag in front of a bull. He hadn’t told the guys about his foray into modeling and he still wasn’t sure how that would play out. No one would give him grief about it, but the ribbing and the ribald jokes would linger for a long time.

  
When Benny showed up leading a nervous looking Cas, Dean felt a warm feeling in his belly. He hadn’t even thought about it when he took Cas’ hand and showed him into the kitchen. But his crew noticed. He had to give it to them, they’d acted with restraint.

  
“Soooo, how long you and Dean been…going out?” Benny asked casually…too casual for Dean’s tastes. Cas looked to Dean like he was asking permission to speak. Dean nodded slightly.

  
“Not long,” Cas said vaguely. “I met him a few weeks ago, but we just recently decided to see if we were compatible.” Dean snorted.

  
“What Cas is trying to say is that we’ve gone out a couple of times and we’re just playing it by ear.” Dean’s words seemed to satisfy everyone’s curiosity…for now. He knew he’d be grilled after Cas left.

  
Once Cas had eaten and had been forced by Dean to eat several cookies, Dean gave him the tour of the station. Once they were in the bay again, Dean told him to wait by the truck while he went inside and got Cas’ coat. The cat calls and whistles just made Dean shake his head. Yep, he was going to hear about it.

  
Dean walked Cas to the door and it was then that Cas took out his phone. “Who you calling?”

  
“A cab.”

  
“Fuck that. Hang on.” Dean raced through the office door. The chief was getting ready to leave for the day, he was the chief and it was his prerogative. “Chief, I need to run a personal errand.”

  
The chief looked up and shrugged. “How long?”

  
Cas’ apartment was only a few blocks from the station. Dean quickly calculated traffic, which should be light since it was a holiday. “Twenty, tops.”

  
“Go ahead. Make sure you have your walkie with you.”

  
“Thanks, Chief. Happy Thanksgiving.”

  
Dean jogged back out to Cas. “Let me get my coat and keys and I’ll drive you home.”

  
“Dean, you don’t have to do that. You’re working.”

  
“It’s not like you live on Staten Island…besides, the chief already gave him his permission.” Dean went through the dayroom door and pulled Benny aside. “I’m taking Cas home. I’ll be back in twenty.”

  
“He’s not your usual type,” said the big Cajun.

  
“Because he’s a he?” Dean bowed up a bit, not sure what to expect.

  
“Because he’s got class, Dumbass.” Dean broke out into a grin.

  
“You saying I don’t have class?”

  
Benny gave him a wry smile. “Not that kind of class. I noticed the Rolex, Dean.”

  
Dean sobered. “Yeah, I’m still not sure about how I fit in his lifestyle. He’s got the fancy apartment overlooking the Park, owns his own company…you’re right, he’s got class.”

  
“We’ll catch up later. Better get the man home.”

  
He found Cas staring into the open doors of the ladder truck. “Want to play with the lights and siren?”

  
“No, Dean. I’m just looking. I find it fascinating…what you do, I mean. You’re brave and a real hero.”

  
“Bullshit. We aren’t heroes, Cas. We just do our jobs.” Dean hated being called a hero. He was just a regular guy doing his job.

  
“A noble profession. I admire you.”

  
Dean brushed his words aside. “Come on, let’s get you home.”

  
Outside of Cas’ apartment building, Dean turned in the seat. “Dinner is a noon. I’ll pick you up around ten or so, since I’ll have to run back to my place and get the casserole and the pies.”

  
“I’ll just take a cab to your place and save you the trip,” Cas protested. Dean shook his head and then relented. It would save him some time.

  
“Okay, just be at my place by eleven.” Dean leaned over and kissed him goodbye.

  
Back at the station, all the guys asked questions. Who was he? How did they meet? By lights out, Dean breathed a sigh of relief. As he lay down on his bunk, he realized not one of his crew seemed upset or disgusted that Dean was with another man. He didn’t think they were like that, but it was nice to know he was right. There had been some teasing about who was the top. Dean evaded that line of questioning, but he thought about it. Dean swung both ways, depending on the situation and the guy. He’d bottom for Cas…definitely.

Castiel woke at six. He didn’t need an alarm clock most mornings. As was his practice on most mornings, he grabbed his gym back, dressed in a pair of slacks and a sweater and walked the two blocks to the athletic club. “Good morning, Mr. Novak,” the trainer at the front desk said with a smile. It was a private club and the membership fees were expensive. In the locker room, he put on his workout clothes. In the winter, Cas did five miles on the treadmill. During the summer, he usually ran in the Park. Occasionally, he’d play a game of squash with one of his staff, but he hadn’t done that in a few months.

  
Home again, he showered and called a cab. When he arrived at Dean’s house, he picked up the box of chocolates from La Maison Du Chocolat off the seat next to him and paid the driver. Dean answered the door in a pair of jeans that had holes at both the knees. His t-shirt had seen its better days as well. “Come on in. I’m getting ready to take the last of the pies out of the oven.”

  
“Pies? As in plural?”

  
Dean frowned at him. “Cas, it’s Thanksgiving dinner…well technically, it’s the day after, but still.” As if this explained everything. Castiel sat the box on the table and took off his coat, scarf and gloves. Dean had already disappeared into the kitchen. Castiel followed his nose. Dean’s kitchen counter was covered in pies. Castiel counted six…seven including the one Dean was taking out of the oven with large red mitts. He sat it down and then picked up a large glass baking dish with something covered in miniature marshmallows.

  
“Sweet potatoes,” guessed Castiel.

  
“Yep. My famous recipe.”

  
“What makes it famous,” Castiel asked, sitting on one of the barstools that were at the granite covered island.

  
Dean grinned. “It’s my secret recipe.”

  
“What type of pies are these?”

  
Dean pointed to each one. “Cherry, blueberry, pecan, pumpkin, pumpkin, apple, caramel apple.”

  
“I’m impressed. How many people are expected for dinner.” Castiel prayed for a small number.

  
“Uhm,” Dean ticked names off on his fingers. “Me, you, Mom, Sam, Tessa, Bobby, Ellen, Jo, Ash and my granddad.”

  
Nine other people. Eight strangers. “Can I do anything to help?”

  
“Nah, just got to go take a quick shower and dress. You look nice, but you didn’t have to wear a suit, Cas.”

  
Castiel looked down at his tailored suit and white dress shirt. The tie was one of his favorites, blue with white diagonal stripes. “Am I overdressed?”

  
“You’re fine.” He pulled Castiel into the living room and put the remote in his hand. “Watch some TV while I shower. Be back in ten.”

  
Castiel held the foreign object in his hand until Dean’s steps faded on the stairs. He sat it on the coffee table and walked around the room, noting the books on the shelves, the pictures on the mantel and the car magazines piled up on one of the end tables by a worn recliner. He was holding a picture of Dean as a young boy scout when Dean thumped down the stairs. Castiel looked up and stared.

  
Dean’s hair was still damp and he was clean shaven, the jeans he wore were in much better shape this time. What caught Castiel’s attention was that the maroon shirt was left open. Dean had his hands on the bottom button and was in the process of covering the beautiful expanse of skin. Dean didn’t seem to notice Castiel’s glazed eyes zeroing in on his chest. He finished dressing and sat down on one of the dining room chairs. He pulled on a pair of boots that were by the chair and stood up. “Ready?”

  
“Uhm…yes.” How did the man leave him inarticulate? He was in the top of his class at NYU, and damn it if the man made him forget the English language. Dean opened a doorway leading off the kitchen.

  
“I’ve already got the trunk cleaned out. We’ll lay the pies in there.” It took three trips to get all the pies and the casserole loaded. They both bundled up in their coats and gloves. Castiel picked up the box of chocolates and followed Dean back into the garage.  
Mrs. Winchester’s home was small, but well kept. The sidewalk had been shoveled recently and salt had been put down on the steps leading to the front door. Dean, a pie in each hand, kicked the door with his booted foot. It was thrown open by a tall man with hair almost to his shoulders. “About time.”

  
“It’s only eleven forty-five, Bitch.”

  
“I had to peel the potatoes, Jerk.” Dean snickered.

  
“Hate it for you. Sam, this is Cas. Cas, this Sasquatch is my little brother, Sam.” Castiel looked down at his hands, one held the chocolate and one held a pie.

  
“Sorry, I would formally shake your hand, but I don’t have a spare right now.” Sam stood aside and allowed both men to enter the house. It was warm and inviting. He didn’t have time to look around because Dean was walking briskly towards the back of the house.

  
“Mom,” Dean called out. “I’m here with the pies.” Castiel rounded the corner and stopped. A pretty blonde woman in a light pink sweater and jeans was taking the pies from Dean’s hands.

  
“Glad you’re here, Sweetheart.” She looked at Castiel and gave him a warm smile. “You must be Cas. I’m Mary, Dean’s mother.”

  
“Yes, Ma’am.” He sat down his pie next to Dean’s on the counter and held out the chocolates. “These are for you.”

  
She took the box and opened the lid, inhaling the rich scent of cocoa. “Heavenly. Thank you. Dean, you didn’t tell me he was such a gentleman.”

  
“Yeah, he’s all that and a bag of chips. Come on, Cas, let’s finish unloading the car.” Mary patted his back.

  
“Dean is rough around the edges, but he’s a good boy,” she whispered, following them to the front door. As they passed through the living room, Castiel glanced over. Two older men, a middle aged woman and two attractive younger women were sitting around. “Hurry back in and I’ll introduce you to everyone.”

Dean’s mom had her hand tucked into Cas’ elbow and was introducing him to the family. He saw Samuel Campbell’s look of contempt. His grandfather tried to mask it, but Dean saw it, even if Cas didn’t. He and his mother’s father never got along. Sam was the golden child with his college education and his pretty wife. The normal one. Dean had been a hell raiser, barely graduating high school and his bisexuality didn’t help the conservative man’s view of him. The old man would never say anything in front of Mary, but if she was out of earshot, all bets were off.

  
Soon, they were seated around Mary’s mother’s old oak table. The thing groaned from the weight of all the food. Cas was seated to Dean’s left and Jo to his right. Across from him sat Bobby and Ellen. The three of them had flown in from South Dakota last night. They weren’t blood related, but they were family. Jo was finishing up her nursing degree at the National American University in Sioux Falls. Ash was seated next to his grandfather and Dean got childish pleasure for that fact. Ash was incredibly smart, but looked like a reject from the eighties. Mary was on the end with Cas on her right. Dean was trying to keep up with Jo and Sam’s banter about football, while keeping an ear out for the conversation between his mother and Cas.

  
She asked all the standard questions about his job and his family and then she pulled out the big guns. “So, Cas, have you ever been married?”

  
“No.”

  
By this time Ellen and Bobby were listening. “Why not?”

  
“Mom,” Dean warned, but was ignored.

  
“I’ve never found the right person.”

  
“Are you bi like Dean or…”

  
“Mom,” Dean squeaked out, embarrassed. “That’s not something…”

  
“Dean, your mother and I are having a conversation. Eat your peas,” Cas said and Sam almost spewed mashed potatoes through his nose. Amused, Mary laid her hand over Cas’.

  
“I think I’m going to like you, Cas.”

  
“Thank you, Mrs. Winchester.”

  
“Mary…please. Now, getting back to my question…” Dean rolled his eyes and ate his peas.

  
“I’m gay.”

  
“And what are your intentions towards my son?”

  
“Jesus,” Dean growled, wishing the earth would swallow him. By now, the entire table was focused on Cas.

  
“I find your son to be smart and funny, he's warm and has a big heart. I’d like to get to know him better.”

  
“Suck up,” Jo muttered to Dean’s right. Bobby kicked her under the table and she flung a roll at him.

  
“Joanna Beth, don’t you dare throw food,” Ellen yelled. Bobby caught the piece of bread easily and it sailed back across the table, landing in Ash’s gravy.

  
Cas was looking at his family in rapt fascination. Mary clucked her tongue. “Bobby Singer, don’t encourage her,” Ellen elbowed her husband.

  
Ash picked up the roll, dripping gravy and bit into it. Dean pinched the bridge of his nose. This was normal for the Winchesters, but Cas was upper crust. So much for seeing where this goes. The man probably thought they were hillbillies.

  
Unfortunately, Dean didn't get a chance to be alone with Cas. Mary and then later, Sam, kept him occupied. Dean, Jo and Tessa got stuck with kitchen duty. When they emerged after the last dish was washed and put away, Cas was seated on the sofa looking at a photo album. He’d removed his suit jacket and tie. His shirt was unbuttoned at the neck and his sleeves were rolled up.

  
“When he was a toddler, he hated clothes. He was always taking off his diaper and running around the house naked.”

  
“Kill me now,” Dean said under his breath. His mom was showing Cas his naked baby pictures. Cas looked up and met his eyes. There was a sparkle there and he was smiling.

  
“You were an adorable baby, Dean,” he said much to Mary’s delight. Dean was subjected to another hour of his childhood anecdotes before his grandfather stood up.

  
“My flight leaves in a few hours, so I need to get upstairs and pack.”

  
Dean stood. “Cas and I’ll be heading out in a few, so I guess we’ll say our goodbyes now.” He stuck out his hand and his grandfather shook it, not meeting his eyes.

  
Cas stood as well and said, “It was nice meeting you, Sir.” Samuel ignored Cas’ hand and headed upstairs. Mary glared after her father and then rested her hand on Cas’ arm.

  
“Don’t mind him, Sweetheart. He can be a cantankerous old bastard.”

  
“Quite alright, Mary,” Cas replied.

  
In the car, Dean sighed and then said, “Sorry about my family. You must think we’re a bunch of…”

  
“Stop.” Cas turned to him. “Your family is fun and loving and you are lucky to have them.”

  
“Right…Jesus, Cas, we had a food fight. My grandfather is a homophobic dick and mom interrogated you. It’s normal for me, but you’re not used to dinner with the Winchesters. They could write a sitcom about us.”

  
“Never be ashamed of your family, Dean.”

Castiel’s initial nervousness was soon gone. Mary made him feel right at home. Sam was intelligent and they had an interesting discussion about politics. Everyone, with the exception of Dean’s grandfather, was nice. He couldn’t remember the last time he’d had that much fun at dinner, despite Mary’s questioning. It was obvious that there was a lot of love at that table. Castiel’s family dinners were usually around a linen covered table with sparkling silver and china. No one spoke unless it was business or finance related.

  
“You have to get home right away?” Dean asked after pulling out of Mary’s neighborhood.

  
“No, I have no plans for the evening.”

  
“Cool.” They drove the rest of the way to Dean’s house in silence. When Dean pulled into the driveway, they noticed the large brown delivery truck slowing to a stop by Dean’s mailbox.

  
“Dean Winchester?” the man called out, holding a large manila envelope. Castiel smiled. He had a feeling he knew what was in the package.

  
“Yeah.” Dean walked towards the man. He signed for the package and the truck rumbled down the road. “Novak Publications,” Dean read from the label. He looked up. “I guess this is it, huh?”

  
“The Christmas issue hits the newsstands this evening.”

  
Inside Dean’s home, Dean pulled off his boots by the door and Castiel did too. They hung up their coats by the door and pulled off their gloves. “Want a beer? It’s not a microbrew.”

  
“Anything you drink will be fine, Dean.” Dean was still defensive about his financial situation and Castiel wasn’t sure what he could do to prove he didn’t judge people by the size of their bank account. The envelope sat on the island between them and Castile likened it to a large elephant in the room. Dean’s eyes were drawn to it, but then they would dart away quickly. “Open it,” Castiel said, pushing it a few inches towards Dean.

  
“Nah, I’ll…uhm…look at it…later.” The corner of Castiel’s mouth quirked up. “What?” Dean asked.

  
“You want to see it. Why are you pretending that you don’t?”

  
Dean shrugged and mumbled, “It’s kind of embarrassing.”

  
“You have nothing to be ashamed of, Dean. You’re beautiful.”

  
Dean snorted. “Yeah, right.”

  
Castiel reached over and took the envelope. He ripped it open and pulled the magazine out. The glossy cover showed a twenty-something. He was wearing a blue thong, ski boots and a knit cap. He was holding ski poles. With the help of photoshop, the model looked like he was on a snowy slope somewhere.

  
Before Dean could protest, Castiel flipped it open to the centerfold. Dean stared down at himself on the bearskin rug. With a flick of his fingers, he flipped the page and there were the remaining eight shots. “You didn’t use any of the…” Dean moved his hand in a jacking off motion and that made Castiel laugh softly.

  
“No. Honestly, I didn’t want the world to see you like that.” Dean leaned down on his elbows, staring intently at the pictures and then up at Castiel.

  
“Thanks, Cas.” Dean shut the magazine and walked around the island. He took Cas’ hand and pulled him close. Dean tasted of pumpkin and spice. The kiss was affectionate, open mouthed, but Dean didn’t use his tongue. Castiel felt the slide of Dean’s teeth over his bottom lip and he moaned into it. He rested his hands on Dean’s hips, but Dean’s fingers were caressing the back of his neck, keeping him close. “Third date…third base.”

  
“Touching…naked skin…” Castiel murmured against Dean’s jaw.

  
“Uh huh…” Dean’s hands dropped to cup Castiel’s ass, pulling him against Dean’s erection. Castiel couldn’t remember the walk upstairs. Dean’s bedroom was simple. An unmade bed, a dresser and a chest of drawers. Plantation blinds open allowing the fading sun to stripe the bed. Undressed to their underwear, the men fell to the bed in a tangle of limbs.

  
The feeling Dean’s mouth on his nipples was indescribable. He felt the scrape of teeth, the suction and just when he was about to cross the threshold from pleasure to pain, Dean left gentle kisses on each hard nub. They touched and kissed and touched some more. Castiel careful not to let his hands near Dean’s erection and when Dean got too close to his, he would carefully take his hand and move it away. At first, Dean chuckled softly, but after the third time, he lifted his head and looked down at Castiel, his face serious. “Were you born a cocktease or is this just a new development with me?”

  
“I was serious when I said that I want to get to know you, Dean. I’m sorry if you think I’m leading you on…” Castiel sat up and rubbed his face. “I want you, God, you’ve got to know I do, Dean. I want you, but I want all of you, not just your body. Maybe I’m foolishly old fashioned where you’re concerned, but I want to date you, find out what your likes and dislikes are. I want to hear your dreams and nightmares. I’m just afraid you’ll disappear once we…”

  
“You sound like a chick flick, Cas.” Dean sat up and rolled his feet off the bed. “Come on, let’s go watch television or something since you aren’t going to give me any tonight.”

  
“Are you angry with me?” Castiel could understand if Dean was. After all, they’d made out like horny teenagers for… Castiel looked at the clock on Dean’s nightstand…over an hour.

  
Dean threw a pair of flannel sleep pants and a t-shirt at him without answering and Castiel dressed. He didn’t sense anger from Dean, just disappointment. He was disappointed too, but he wanted something real without sex clouding his judgment. He needed to make Dean understand. Downstairs on the couch, Dean punched the remote control until he found The Godfather. Castiel remembered seeing the film in one of his college classes. “Cas.”

  
“Yes?”

  
“I’m not angry…and for the record…I won’t disappear.”

  
Castiel took his hand and they watched the movie, not talking…not needing too.

  
That night, they slept together…just slept. Castiel waited until he heard Dean’s soft, even breathing before he rolled over to stare at him. The fine lines at the corners of his eyes were softer in sleep, his long lashes graced the skin of his cheeks…he was truly beautiful. In the dim light, he couldn’t make out the freckles, but he knew they were there and he tentatively touched Dean’s face. Dean made a soft sound and turned his face towards the contact.

  
He could fall in love with this man, he thought. It scared him. Already, he could imagine waking with Dean in the mornings…sharing a pot of coffee…

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The part in the fire station where Dean described people bringing them food on the holiday is true. When I had to work on Thanksgiving or Christmas, we would have folks bring plates of food, turkeys, hams, cookies, cakes. It was their way of thanking us for keeping them safe on a day they are with their families. Today, my daughter gets the benefit of this tradition - she worked on Christmas Day at the front gate at Warner Robins Air Force Base (she is a K9 officer), people brought them so much food that they were overwhelmed. 
> 
> So, think about doing a random act of kindness to your local fire stations, police stations or military gates. You have no idea how much something so simple is appreciated.


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Wee bit of NSFW art at the bottom.

Dean woke up slowly, stretching until he bumped into a warm body next to him. The memory of the previous night came flooding back. Cas. Cas was in his bed. Innocently sleeping in his bed, because he was trying to prove something apparently. Dean looked over. Cas was on his side, hands curled under his chin, hair a freakin’ riot on his head. Like this, it was hard to imagine him as the CEO of a huge publishing company. Quietly, he slipped out of bed and padded downstairs in his bare feet. The floors were cold from the frigid temperatures outside, but all Dean had were a pair of slippers so ugly, he wouldn’t wear them in front of anyone – least of all someone like Cas.

  
He started the coffee and checked the refrigerator for breakfast food. He stacked eggs and bacon on the counter and contemplated what to make. Was Cas one of those people who blended up fruit and vegetables for a smoothie every morning? The thought made him shudder. Dean’s house, Dean’s rules. He got a mixing bowl down and made the batter for French toast.

  
The first batch was coming off the griddle when he heard the steady thump thump of someone coming down the stairs. Cas appeared in the doorway looking like he’d been on a three day bender. “Coffee?”

  
Dean grinned and poured a cup into one of his NYFD mugs. He slid it over to Cas, along with the sugar bowl and a spoon. “Milk’s in the fridge.”

  
“Thank you.” Cas fumbled through making his coffee drinkable and Dean noted the way he liked it. Three sugars and a large dollop of milk. He took a tentative sip and then closed his eyes, looking blissed out. Dean laughed.

  
“I haven’t slept this late in years,” Cas said, relaxing against the counter.

  
“We stayed up pretty late,” Dean supplied, flipping another piece of toast onto the serving platter.

  
“I’ve been to events and parties that lasted until the wee hours of the morning and I still get up by six every morning.”

  
Dean cocked his head. “Damn. I have to get up at six when I’m on shift, but on my days off, I don’t roll out of the rack until at least eight. You must have been really tired.”

  
“Or really comfortable,” Cas replied. Their eyes met and both of their faces flushed pink.

  
“So, uhm, do you have plans for the day?” Dean averted his eyes. They spent the majority of yesterday and last night together. He sounded needy. “I mean…I’m sure you have plans, so…”

  
“I usually work on Saturdays, but I don’t have concrete plans, Dean. If you aren’t tired of me yet, perhaps we can do something.”

  
Dean couldn’t help smiling. “Yeah…sure. Any ideas?”

  
Cas seemed to give it some serious thought, but he shrugged. “What would you normally do on your Saturday off?”

  
“Well, it’s the weekend after Thanksgiving, so I usually put up my Christmas stuff. Or work on the house.”

  
Cas was looking at him in that confused puppy way that Dean found endearing. “You decorate your home for Christmas?”

  
“Yeah, of course, don’t you?”

  
“No. I’ve never felt the need. Our family home was decorated by designers hired by my father, but I’ve never…”

  
“Wow.”

  
“Could I perhaps…assist you with your decorating?” He sounded almost childlike and Dean’s heart broke a little for the child that never had a really fun Christmas.

  
“Let’s eat and then we’ll get to it,” Dean took the bacon out of the oven where it was staying warm and put both platters down on his scarred dining room table. While they ate, Cas asked questions about Dean’s decoration strategy.

  
“I hate it, but I use a fake tree. Mom still gets a real one every year, but I sold out a few years back. I got one of the pre-lit ones and it sure beats fighting with strands of lights every year.” Cas nodded like he understood, but it was clear to Dean he had no idea what he was talking about. His mom would die if she found out Cas didn’t decorate for Christmas. A thought struck Dean. “Hey, Cas?”

  
“Yes, Dean?”

  
“You do celebrate Christmas, don’t you?” What if he was Jewish or Atheist?

  
“I’m not anti-Christmas, Dean. I believe Jesus was born, but not in December. Studies show, he would have been born in the spring or summer. Christmas itself is based loosely on pagan rituals, from the tree to kissing under the mistletoe.” And as if he realized Dean might be religious, he stopped and mumbled, “I must apologize. I was raised in the church and even though I lost my faith many years ago, I understand others believe.”

  
“Don’t sweat it, Cas. Mom sent us to Sunday school, but she’s more of a spiritual person than a religious one. I’m not really sure what I believe, but I just love the Christmas traditions. It’s a fun holiday.”

  
After that, Dean loaded the dishwasher while Cas cleaned off the table. Dean kept the topics to safe things like stockings and tinsel.

  
Cas followed him out to the garage where he handed him big plastic bins of decorations. If Cas was surprised by the number of bins, he didn’t say. It didn’t take long for Dean to put up the tree and plug it in. He could see the twinkling lights reflected in Cas’ eyes. He showed Cas how to put the ornaments on the hooks and while Dean just found a branch and stuck them on, Cas was more painstakingly precise about the endeavor. Dean’s ornaments had a theme. His mom began giving him firefighter based decorations right after he graduated from the academy and now he had a whole tree of them. He would look at the ornament, step back and eyeball the tree and carefully place the ornament on a limb. It took most of the morning, but the house was decorated, the stockings were hung on the mantel and garland was woven through the railing of the stairs. Dean stepped back with a sense of accomplishment. Cas stood beside him. “This is lovely, Dean.”

  
“Yeah, it is. Next, we do your place,” Dean said, decision made.

  
“No, we don’t…”

  
“Cas, if we’re going to date, that means I’ll be spending time at your place. No offense, but it’s not exactly homey. It’s time to introduce you to Walmart.

Castiel wasn’t born under a rock. He’d heard of the mega-store, but had never been in one. They had to drive into New Jersey to find one and the parking lot was packed. Dean seemed to be in his element and grabbed a shopping cart.

  
“Dean, why is that woman in her pajamas? Aren’t those house slippers? Is that man wearing a pink wig? What is that woman wearing? Is that even a woman?”

  
Dean laughed at each question and told Castiel he would have to Google the People of Walmart website. Apparently, what he was seeing was a common occurance.

The Christmas section of the store was exciting to Castiel. With a tree and a shopping cart full of decorations, they lined up to check out. Castiel handed the woman his gold American Express card and she stared at him blankly. Dean whispered, “Cas, they don’t take that card here?”

  
Indignant, Castiel stared at the cashier. “This card has no limit. Why is it not accepted here?”

  
“Cas, hey, you got another card? One that maybe has a limit?” Dean was leaning against him now, speaking softly.

  
“Of course, I have another card, but that’s not the point.”

  
“Sir, you want this stuff or what?” She said, smacking her gum loudly.

  
With a huff, Castile opened his wallet and put the gold card back in its slot. He removed the company’s Visa. He’d have to pay back Novak Publications back for this little expense. Castiel could not get over the store not accepting his card and Dean was laughing at his complaints. “Cas, dude, you can get your eyes checked, cash a paycheck and buy a gallon of milk here. People that shop at Walmart don’t carry gold cards.”

  
“Of course not, because they are not accepted.”

  
The trip to Manhattan from New Jersey took a little over thirty minutes. Dean pulled the Impala into the garage and slid it easily into Castiel’s space. They lugged the huge box that contained the tree and the dozen plastic bags to the elevator.

  
The car stopped on the first floor and a woman entered. She eyed the bags with disdain and then looked Dean up and down. Castiel gave her a bone chilling look and she turned to face the doors. Dean’s eyebrow rose and he looked at Castiel’s stormy face questioningly. The woman got out and as soon as the door closed, Dean said, “I thought you were going to smite the woman, Cas. You know her?”

  
“No and I don’t care to. She is a…a bitch.” Castiel couldn’t find a better word to use at the moment.

  
Dean laughed. “Tell me how your really feel, Cas.”

  
“I did,” Castiel said, confused.

  
“Sarcasm, Cas.”

  
“Oh. I just didn’t like the way she was looking at you.”

  
“She’s just a rich snob, Cas. Don’t let it bother you, it happens all the time. Hell, even your doorman looks down his nose at me.” Castiel saw red. He owed Zachariah a private conversation.

  
“You once thought I was a rich snob, Dean. I’ve never looked down at people because of their financial status or what they do for a living.”

  
“I know that now, Cas. Don’t let the haters ruin our day.” The doors opened on the eleventh floor and they wrestled the stuff to Castiel’s apartment. Dean had insisted on decorating Castiel’s tree with blue and white ornaments and when he stepped back, he had to admit it was beautiful. Both men flopped back on the sofa and stared at the tree. With the late afternoon sun going down, the tiny blue lights gave the whole room a soft glow.

  
“Thank you for this, Dean.”

  
“Shut up, Cas,” Dean said, taking his hand and intertwining their fingers. Castiel’s lips twitched as he fought a smile. “I don’t suppose you have anything to eat in that fancy fridge of yours?”

  
“I have some Brie and a few apples.”

  
“I vote for pizza.”

  
“Angelo’s is very good. Meg has had them deliver to the office several times.”

  
“Angelo’s it is then. Let’s go.” They had an argument in the elevator about taking Dean’s car. Castiel’s point was valid though. Parking isn’t the greatest. They opted for a cab. Zachariah wouldn’t even acknowledge Dean’s existence, and while it might not seem to bother Dean, it pissed Castiel off.

  
“Dean, will you wait by the door and watch for the cab, I need to have a word with Zachariah.” Dean strolled easily towards the glass doors and Castiel took a moment to appreciate his bowed legs and the way his jeans fit his ass. He blew out a small breath and motioned for the doorman to follow him around the corner near the service elevator.

  
“You wanted a word, Mr. Novak?” Zachariah said, clearly sucking up to Castiel. After all, Castiel gave him a nice bonus every Christmas.

  
“The man I’m with is someone that I care about. Therefore, he is an extension of me and I expect you to treat him the way you treat me. Do I make myself clear?” Castiel used his best pissed off CEO voice, the one usually reserved for those he was getting ready to fire.

  
“Yes, Sir. I understand, Sir.”

  
“For your sake, I hope you do.” Castiel gave him a curt nod and turned on his heel. His yearly gift will depend a lot on how he treated Dean from now until Christmas.

  
Over pizza and beer, Castiel had an idea. “Dean, you are on shift tomorrow, correct?”

  
“Yeah.”

  
Castiel looked at his Rolex. It was almost seven. He frowned.

  
“What’s the grumpy face for?”

  
“I wanted to do something, but you will probably need to get back home soon.”

  
“What did you want to do? Dean leaned back, patting his full belly.

  
“It’s nothing, a silly thought.”

  
Dean looked at his watch and back up at Castiel.

He really needed to by home by eleven or so to get his uniforms ready. With an hour, more or less, to get home this time of night, he could afford to hang out with Cas a bit longer. He’d had a great day. Cas wasn’t aware, but his voice carried in the lobby of his building. His tough-guy speech to the slimy doorman made Dean feel good and if he was honest, gave Little Dean a tingly feeling. “Can we do it in two hours?”

  
Cas blinked. “I suppose so…yes.”

  
“Let’s do it then.” Dean stood up and tossed a few bills on the table. Cas looked down at them and must have decided it wouldn’t do any good to argue. Outside Cas hailed them a cab and told the driver to take them to the entrance of Central Park. Dean smirked. “What do you have up your sleeve, Cas?”

  
“Something romantic.”

  
“Hmmm.” Dean pursed his lips. Romantic. Cas was taking this whole dating thing pretty serious. The whole thing about them not having sex was different. Dean was frustrated, but on another level, he thought it was sweet. “Do does this qualify as our third date?”

  
“There was Thanksgiving dinner and today’s shopping trip. I think it is the fifth.”

  
“Dinner with the family isn’t a date. I’ll give you shopping only because we decorated each others’ homes. So, fourth date.”

  
The cab stopped and the two men got out. Cas handed the cabbie his fare and took Dean’s hand. He led him to the line of carriages. “Cas? Really? A carriage ride through Central Park? Isn’t this kind of cheesy?”

  
Cas’ face fell and Dean could have kicked himself. “Fuck,” he mumbled under his breath when Cas stopped and his shoulders slumped.

  
“It was a silly idea,” he said softly.

  
“No. It was a sweet idea. Cheesy, but romantic. Come on.” Dean led him up to the first carriage. With his arm around Cas’ waist, he told the hack they wanted a ride. Once they were seated with a thick blanket over their legs, the driver clicked his tongue and the horse began to move. As they made the first turn, Dean leaned over and pulled Cas in for a soft kiss. Cas’ smile stayed on his lips until the carriage stopped again.

  
Back at Cas’ building, they walked down to the garage together. Leaning against the car, they necked for awhile. Dean sucked hickeys on Cas’ neck while the man let his head roll back, his soft moans sounding loud in the cavernous space. Finally, Dean reluctantly broke away. “Gotta go, Babe.”

  
As he drove up the ramp onto the street, he looked back and Cas was just standing there with his fingers touching his lips. “I’m so screwed.”

  
When he got into the station the next morning, he was greeted with more teasing than normal.

  
“Nice ass, Winchester.”

  
“Playing Santa this year, Dean?”

  
“Did you kill a polar bear?”

  
The last comment gave him a bad feeling in his stomach. Then he saw the magazine spread open to his centerfold on the table.

  
“It appears some of you are jealous of Winchester’s attributes, the chief said with a grin. The crew groaned. Dean flipped the magazine closed.

  
“Everyone just get it out. Give me your worst,” Dean said, leaning his butt against the table. “Ya see, I made six large for those pictures.”

  
“Six thou? Holy shit. Where do I sign up?” Garth asked, awe lacing his voice. That caused everyone to laugh.

  
“Maybe you gotta be boinking the publisher,” Benny said sarcastically. Dean’s smile faltered.

  
“Lafitte,” the chief said, a warning in his tone. To everyone, he said, “Alright, assholes, you’ve wasted enough time. We got training out back in five minutes.”

  
Dean went to the bunk room to put down his bag. When he turned around Benny was standing there. “Look, Dean…”

  
“Don’t,” Dean snapped. Out of everyone, he thought Benny would be the most tolerant. They were friends.

  
“It was supposed to be a joke, but it fell flat. I’m sorry.” Benny slipped his hands in his front pockets, pulling his shoulders in on themselves.

  
“It’s not like that with me and Cas.” Dean told him, still angry. “We’re not even…sleeping together.”

  
Benny’s eyes flew open. “What?”

  
Dean smirked. “Yeah, I know, I usually have people in the sack after the first date…but Cas doesn’t…he wants to get to know me first.”

  
“You like him…like that?”

  
“Yeah. I think so.”

  
The big Cajun put his huge hand on Dean’s shoulder and squeezed. “Good luck, Dean.”

  
With the morning’s training and the calls due to another bout of snow, Dean didn’t come up for air until after dark. The ribbing by the guys lasted most of the day, but it was cool. He’d found out that Adam, the gay rookie was the culprit who brought the magazine in. Dean vowed to get him back somehow. After dinner, Dean went to his bunk for a few minutes of alone time.

  
**Text to Cas/7:03 – My crew saw the mag.**  
**Text from Cas/7:04 – I’m sorry, Dean. I shouldn’t have come.**  
**Text to Cas/7:05 – Hey, it’s cool. They’re cool. Just a lot of lame jokes.**  
**Text to Cas/7:06 – What did you do today?**  
**Text from Cas/7:06 – They know you are bisexual?**  
**Text from Cas/7:07 – I went to the office for a few hours.**  
**Text to Cas/7:07 – Yes. Not that we talk about our sex lives. Work? It’s Sunday, Dude.**  
**Text from Cas/7:08 – I am aware it is Sunday. You are working, why shouldn’t I?**  
**Text to Cas/7:09 – Yeah, but I get the next two days off. You’ll be in the office.**  
**Text from Cas/7:10 – True.**

  
The tones went off and Dean sighed. He’d been getting ready to call Cas and ream him out about working so much.

  
**Text to Cas/7:11 – Gotta call. TTYL**

** **

Monday afternoon, Castiel got a call from Dean. “Got plans for tonight?”

  
Castiel looked down at his planner. He had a business meeting with a new advertiser at five. “No,” he lied.

  
“Good, I’ll be at your place at six.”

  
“Okay. Are you going to clue me in on what we are going to be doing?”

  
“Nope.” Castiel guess turnabout was fair play. He’d surprised Dean with the carriage ride. It had been sappy and romantic…something that tourists did, but they’d had a good time. His plan to romance Dean seemed to be working. After they said their goodbyes, he buzzed Meg.

  
“I need you to handle the meeting with Talbot Industries tonight. Something has come up.”

  
“You do know that I hate that bitch, right?”

  
“Yes, you’ve made your feelings abundantly clear in the past, but you can play nice for an hour or so over drinks. They want to advertise and are talking about a full page ad.” Talbot Industries specialized in putting together corporate retreats and an ad in Voyage would bring in a lot of income. Bela Talbot took over the reins of the company when her mother died two years ago. She was a force to be reckoned with and a cold bitch.

  
“You will owe me, Novak.” Castiel smiled at the use of his last name.

  
“And you won’t let me forget it…Masters.” She was still laughing huskily when he hung up. Castiel pushed the intercom. “Becky, could you come in here, please?”

  
His secretary opened the door and stood in front of his desk, pen poised over a steno pad. Castiel brushed his hand through the air. “Sit and put that down, I just need your advice.” Becky was notorious for reading romance novels and she loved romantic movies.

  
“Advice?”

  
“I’m seeing someone.” Becky’s smile almost blinded him.

  
“Who is he?” Castiel wasn’t stupid, he knew his staff saw pictures of him with different men. “Not a model, I hope.”

  
“Well, sort of.” Becky’s face fell.

  
“Mr. Novak, you’ve done the model thing before. You know they just want your influence…not that you aren’t a catch…because you are…you’re gorgeous and smart…” Castiel held up his hand.

  
“I know what you meant, Becky. Dean is different.” He explained how he saw Dean the day of the accident and how he was one of the models in the December issue of Hunk.

  
“Wait.” Becky held up one finger and raced out of the room. She ran back in and plopped down in the same chair, she was clutching the issue. “Him?” She flipped open the centerfold. Castiel smiled knowingly.

  
“Yes, him.”

  
“Sweet Baby Jesus. I read his short bio.” In the magazine, Hunk always did a small blurb about the model’s background. “He’s a firefighter.” Castiel had never seen a woman swoon before, but Becky was close. She even fanned herself with the magazine.  
Castiel tried to hide his amusement. “Yes, he is. Now, back to the subject…”

  
“Oh, of course, I’m sorry.” Becky seemed to remember she was drooling over her boss’s…what? Boyfriend? Was it too soon to think of Dean like that? He’d never had a real boyfriend. He’d had lovers, friends with benefits…plenty of one night stands…people he’d dated for awhile, but never a boyfriend. “What did you need from me?”

  
“Dean is different from the men I usually…date. He’s not impressed by four star restaurants or gala events. I need some suggestions on what to do in New York that doesn’t cost a lot of money. Romantic stuff.”

  
“Ahhhh,” she cooed. Then just like that, she was down to business. “Radio City Christmas Spectacular is awesome and you can get it great seats with your American Express Platinum membership. Oh…oh…take him to the top of the Empire State Building. Hold hands…kiss…God, it’s so romantic. And then there’s Lincoln Center…and…and a carriage ride…skating at Rockafeller Center…”

  
Okay, thanks, Becky.” Becky blushed at her enthusiasm. She got up and backed out of his office. He’d checked off the carriage ride already. He could call Radio City Music Hall. He was still sitting there when Becky brought his mail in. She opened everything first and got rid of all the junk. After she handed him the envelopes, she stood there bouncing on her feet.

  
“Yes?”

  
“One of our sponsors sent you courtside seats to the Knicks game on Friday – perfect for a date.”

  
Castiel smiled. “I wonder if Dean likes basketball.” He took out the tickets and tapped them on his desk, thinking.

  
Cas left the off promptly at five. Once he was at home, he didn’t know how to dress, so he remained in his suit. At five fifty, Zachariah announced he had a visitor. “Please send him up.”

  
He opened the door to Dean. Dean’s grin turned into a frown. “Dude, you’re wearing a suit.”

  
“You would not tell me what we were doing, Dean.”

  
“Okay, for future reference, unless I tell you to wear a suit, don’t wear a suit. Capiche?”

  
“I will make a note of it,” Castiel said dryly. Dean grinned again.

  
“Go change.” Castiel huffed dramatically and disappeared down the hall.

Dean stood watching Cas walk away. Damn, he had a fine ass. He stood for a few minutes, hands in pockets. He’d never explored Cas’ place. Cas had been in his bedroom. He pursed his lips and looked around the room. The tree and mantel looked so Christmasy. He went over and plugged in the tree. The blue lights glowed. Besides the hallway Cas walked down, there was a set of pocket doors behind the piano that Dean hadn’t noticed before. He opened them carefully and groaned.

  
The large room was dark, but the glow from the sky made it easy for him to make out the pool table in the middle of the room. He fumbled around for the light switch and his mouth dropped open. Cas was holding out on him. A nice bar was at one end of the room, shelves held every type of booze imaginable. The table itself was lit by three hanging lamps. The green felt looked new. Balls littered the table like someone had stopped mid-game. Dean stepped forward and ran his fingertips around one of the corner pockets.

  
“Dean?” Cas called from the other room.

  
“In here,” Dean answered. Cas came to the door. Dean turned his head. “You are full of surprises, aren’t you?”

  
“You play?”

  
Dean snorted. “Do I play? Fuck, Cas, this is the ultimate man cave. If I had this, I’d never leave the house.” Dean noted Cas was now dressed in a pair of jeans and a black button down.

  
“The pool table actually came with the apartment. The previous owners didn’t want the hassle and expense of moving it. My first month here, I taught myself to play. It rarely gets used now.”

  
“You don’t have friends over?”

  
“No, not really.”

  
Dean took one more longing look at the room before they stepped back into the living room to get on their coats. Dean took Cas’ scarf from a hook and bundled it around his neck. “You’re going to need to stay warm. Their eyes locked and Cas closed his eyes, his lips slightly parted and Dean kissed him. Someone made a soft sound, but Dean didn’t know who and didn’t really care because Cas’ mouth opened for him. Dean took what Cas was offering. His tongue swept Cas’ mouth. He tasted of mint. The kiss only lasted a few seconds and Dean pulled back, straightening the scarf. He patted Cas’ chest. “Let’s go.” He was pleased to see Cas’ eyes were glazed.

  
“I…oh…okay.” A corner of Dean’s mouth lifted in a cocky smile. Cas might want to wait for sex, but Dean wasn’t going to make it easy.

  
Dean drove to the Central Parking Garage and paid the attendant. He parked the Impala and they got out. He met Cas at the back of the car and opened the trunk. He lifted out his skates. Cas eyed them warily. “Dean…I don’t…I haven’t skated in…since college.”

  
“It’s like riding a bike, Cas.”

  
“I’ve never ridden a bike.”

  
Dean stared at him in disbelief. “Never?” Cas shook his head. “Okay, well…it’ll come back to you.”

  
They rented Cas a pair of skates and then sat side by side lacing up. Cas carefully stood and hung onto the railing. Dean hit the ice and spun in a circle. Cas gave him a bitchface that rivaled one of his brother’s. Dean grinned and held out his hand. Cas took it and together, they made their way around the rink. By the end of the evening, they were both breathless and laughing. Cas had fallen so many times, Dean had lost count, but he’d been a great sport.

  
That night, he walked Cas up to his apartment and they kissed some more. Dean had pushed Cas up against the door and held him there. After a few minutes of heavy kissing, Dean pulled back and whispered. “I don’t have to work tomorrow.”

  
“You are a temptation, Dean Winchester,” Cas said breathlessly and his mouth found Dean’s again. Dean was the one to stop it this time. He stepped away, putting space between them.

  
“I’ll talk to you tomorrow, Cas.”

  
“Drive carefully, Dean. Please text me when you get home.”

  
Dean drove home deep in thought. He was starting to have feelings for Cas. His family liked him. His crew didn’t have a problem with them seeing each other. Well, Benny had some misgivings, but they were the same misgivings Dean had to begin with. Cas didn’t flash is money around. You could tell by looking at him that he had class and money, but he didn’t flaunt it. Sure, he wore a Rolex and Armani suits. His apartment was probably with millions. But, Cas was funny and oddly sweet.

  
He sent Cas a text when he got home as promised.

  
**Text to Cas/10:52 – Home.**  
**Text from Cas/10:53 – Thank you for the wonderful evening. My ass hates you though.**

  
Dean laughed.

  
**Text to Cas/10:54 – I would have stayed and kissed it all better.**  
**Text from Cas/10:55 – Now who is the cocktease?**  
**Text to Cas/10:56 – I’m not the one saying no.**  
**Text from Cas/10:57 – Subject change. Do you like basketball?**  
**Text to Cas/10:58 – Yeah. Why?**  
**Text from Cas/10:59 – Someone gave me courtside seats to the Knicks game Friday. Want to join me?**  
**Text to Cas/11:00 – Courtside? Are you kidding me? Color me there.”**  
**Text from Cas/11:01 – Goodnight, Dean.**  
**Text to Cas/11:02 – I’m going to bed and I’ll be thinking about you naked.**  
**Text from Cas/11:03 – Damn it, Dean.**  
**Text to Cas/11:04 – Goodnight, Cas.**

  
He was tired and was just teasing Cas, but once he was in bed, he thought back to those kisses and the soft noises Cas made when Dean bit and sucked on his neck. Soon his cock was hard. He slowly ran his fingertip up and down the underside, tracing the prominent vein. Closing his eyes, he imagined his finger was Cas’ tongue. Cas was a talented kisser and Dean would bet money the man could give head like a porn star. He used his thumb to rub his precum around the head getting it slick. Yeah, Cas would tease him, get him so hard he ached. Dean wrapped his fist around his shaft and pumped his hips up and down, the picture of Cas taking him…slowly fucking that beautiful face. His hand moved faster and faster. Those blue eyes looking up at him… When he came, it was to the mental image of Cas taking his load, swallowing it down, perfect eyes never leaving his.

And so it began, the courtship of Dean Winchester. Castiel took a car to Queens the next night and the two of them went to one of Dean’s favorite restaurants, a small Thai place. After they ate, they went back to Dean’s and watched a show on the Animal Planet called River Monsters. The car returned for Cas at ten. Dean walked him to the car and kissed him goodnight. It was quick and g-rated because of Dean’s neighbors and the driver.

  
Dean was on shift the next day and Dean had cupcakes delivered for the crew. Dean used Facetime to call him. The entire crew stood behind him and held up the cupcakes. They were all saying thanks and it was mass confusion, but Castiel focused on Dean’s face. There was a sparkle in his eyes and before he hung up, he winked at Castiel. Castiel sat at his desk staring goofily at his blank monitor for the next five minutes. He was interrupted by Meg. “Why do you look like you just got laid?”

  
“How do you know what I look like after I’ve been laid, Meg?”

  
“I have a vivid imagination. So, what gives? Why the scary smile?”

  
“Do I have to have a reason to smile?”

  
The rest of the week, Meg questioned his sanity every time she saw him.

  
Thursday, Castiel was to speak at a charity auction for the Center for Arts Education. He’d asked Dean to attend with him. Dean was waiting in the lobby of the building when Castiel got home. He was wearing a tuxedo. The man looked like a dream. Castiel came up to him and kissed him. The doorman smiled. Zachariah must have had the day off. Upstairs, Dean went to the billiards room to fix them a drink while he changed. When he came out of his bedroom, Dean stood by the Christmas tree and suddenly Castiel realized how empty his apartment was until he’d met Dean.

  
He took his drink and touched the rim of his glass to Dean’s. “You look very sexy in black tie, Dean.”

  
“Yeah, it’s rented,” Dean said, pulling self-consciously at his bowtie. Castiel batted his hand away and straightened it.

  
“Be that as it may, you are gorgeous.”

  
For the most part, Dean stayed quiet at the auction. They walked around eating hors d’ oeuvres and sipping on wine. Dean growled once about them not serving beer, but it was for Castiel’s ears only. When Castiel stood at the podium to ask people to open their checkbooks to fund the Center, Dean looked on proudly. On the way home, in the cab, Dean was quiet.

  
“Something is on your mind.”

  
Dean shrugged.

  
“Dean…” Castiel turned in the seat and took Dean’s face in his. “Talk to me.”

  
He gestured to his tux. “This isn’t me, Cas. Charity auctions. Tuxedos. Little crackers with fish eggs…”

  
“Jeans, Thai restaurants in Queens and fire stations weren’t me, Dean. But they are you and that’s all that matters.”

  
“You’re a sap. You know that, right?”

  
It was Castiel’s turn to shrug. “I wasn’t until I met you.”

  
“Come here, Asshat,” Dean said softly and kissed him tenderly.

  
To save time, Dean met Castiel at Madison Square Gardens. They arranged to meet out front of the Garden Pub thirty minutes before tip off. Castiel led the way through the crowd and bought them each a beer and a hot dog. The seats were right beside the players’ bench and Dean was almost vibrating with excitement.

  
“Christ, Cas, they’re gonna be sitting right next to us.”Castiel smiled indulgently. The 76ers came out onto the court and did a few warm-ups. The seats next to them were taken by two men. Dean stiffened beside him. Castiel met his eyes, concerned.

“What’s wrong?” “Mark and Donnie Wahlberg just sat down next to me.” Castiel glanced over at the newcomers. He didn’t recognize either one.

  
“Do you know them?” Dean buried his face in his hands, shoulders shaking with laughter. When he got control of himself , he leaned over.

  
“They are actors now, Donnie was in New Kids on the Block. Mark used to model underwear for Calvin Klein.”

  
“Oh.” Castiel risked another look. “Neither look like models, Dean. Which one is which.”

  
Dean gave Castiel a rundown on the lives of the men next to him, obviously a bit star-struck. Then the crowd roared as the Knicks took the court. The games started and it was non-stop action. At the end of the second quarter, the man Castiel now knew as Donnie Wahlberg leaned over to Dean. He pointed to Dean’s NYFD hat. “You a firefighter?”

  
“Yeah…uhm…yes, sir,” Dean stammered.

“Thanks for what you do, man.” He held up his fist and Dean bumped his against it. The other man leaned over and shook Dean’s hand. Soon the three were talking like they’d known each other all their lives. Castiel watched Dean with a soft smile on his face. Dean suddenly whipped around.

  
“Oh, hey, this is Cas. Cas this is Donnie and Mark Wahlberg.”

  
“Nice to meet you,” the two men said at the same time. “You a firefighter too?” asked Mark.

  
“No, I’m a publisher.”

  
“He’s being modest. He’s the CEO of Novak Publications. Castiel Novak,” Dean clarified.

  
“Hey, really? I love Upbeat. That article on Trump was fuckin’ priceless,” said Donnie. Too soon, the game resumed. The Knicks lost by seven points, but Dean enjoyed himself and that made Castiel happy.

  
Saturday, Castiel worked since Dean was on shift. He was looking at the yearend reports when his cell rang. It was Dean.

  
“Cas?” The voice wasn’t Dean’s. Castiel straightened in his chair.

  
“Yes. Who is this?”

“This is Benny Lafitte. Look, Dean didn’t want me to call you. He’s okay.”

  
“What’s happened? What happened to Dean?” Castiel couldn’t keep the panic from his voice.

  
“He’s fine. Just some smoke inhalation. We’re at the ER now and they’ve got him on O2. I just thought you’d want to know, but he’s fine. Really, man.”

  
“Which hospital?”

  
“Bellevue, but he’s fine,” Benny repeated. Castiel ended the call without a goodbye. Shaken, he grabbed his coat and ran out of his office. He stopped in the middle of the outer office, Becky looking at him like he was crazy. She wasn’t usually in on Saturdays, but the end of year paperwork was cause for overtime.

  
“Mr. Novak? What’s wrong.”

  
“Dean’s…Bellevue…” Becky stood up quickly. She touched her telephone headset.

  
“Yes, I need a car downstairs now.” She pressed the mouthpiece again. “Come on, I’ll walk you downstairs.” Castiel allowed himself to be led. They met Meg at the elevator.

  
“What’s going on?” She asked, concerned by Castiel’s pale features.

  
“Mr. Novak’s boyfriend is at Bellevue. I’ve arranged for a car.” Castiel didn’t even notice Meg boarding the elevator with them.

  
Sure enough, a car was waiting at the curb in front of the building. Castiel got in and Meg pushed him over. She looked up at Becky. “Hold the fort, Becky. I’ll call you when we know something.”

  
Meg, a force to be reckoned with on a good day, took charge. She barged into the emergency room like she owned it. They spied the group of firefighters at the same time. She grabbed Castiel’s hand and hauled him forward. Several of the men looked up. Benny shook his head, but he wore a small smile. “I shouldn’t have called you. Dean’s going to kill me. He’s fine.”

  
“We’ll be the judge of that. Where is he?” Meg said authoritatively. Benny eyed the petite brunette speculatively.

  
“He’s in Trauma One,” Garth replied. Meg took his hand and dragged him along. A nurse opened her mouth to tell them they weren’t allowed, but Meg spoke up.

  
“Dean Winchester’s fiancé coming through.” Castiel’s eyes widened and he whispered out of the side of his mouth.

  
“Fiancé?” She glared at him. Meg looked around and saw a curtained off area, above it was a sign that told them Dean was behind industrial gray material. Meg ripped it open and Dean, dressed in a black tank top, his bunker gear laid out on the bed next to him, looked up. A nurse was administering a shot.

  
“Cas? What are you doing here?”

  
“I…I…” Relief poured over him.

  
“He got a call you were hurt. It scared the fuck out of him.” To the nurse, Meg shrugged. “Sorry.”

  
Dean smiled. “I’m okay. I’m going to kill whoever called you.”

  
Castiel stepped forward, addressing the nurse. “How is he, really?”

  
“He inhaled a bunch of smoke. We’ve treated him with O2 and Albuterol. I just gave him a steroid shot to help with his breathing. He’ll be released in a few minutes.”

  
Castiel exhaled in relief. Dean was going to be fine.

The smoke filled hallway was almost pitch black. Dean and Benny had been inside after a witness said they saw someone at one of the apartment windows on the fifth floor. Dean’s SCBA tank began to beep signaling he was low on air. Benny looked over. “Let’s get out,” his voice muffled by his mask.

  
Dean shook his head. “Only three more apartments to search. We got this.”

  
They broke down the next door. “Fire Department…call out.” Dean and Benny shouted. They did a quick sweep of the rooms and they were at the door when Dean heard the faint call. He stopped, touching Benny’s arm. There it was again. He rushed back into the bedroom. They’d checked under the bed, but Dean’s eyes locked on a overstuffed chair. He pulled it forward and an elderly woman was leaning against the wall, her eyes glassy. Dean broke all the rules and ripped off his face mask. He placed it carefully over her face and picked the slight woman up in his arms. Benny led the way out. Five flights of stairs and Dean’s lungs were burning. But he saved someone today.

  
While he lay on the hospital’s gurney, breathing in O2, the chief read him the riot act. When he left though, he’d told Dean he’d done a good thing.

  
The nurse told him he could go as soon as she administered the steroid. He was sitting up when the curtain was almost ripped from the metal rod. The first person he saw was Meg and she looked scary. Then he saw Cas and the man was deathly pale. After the explanations and reassurances, Cas looked only slightly better. Flashbacks of Lisa, who’d left him because of his dangerous job, hit him full force. Was Cas going to bolt?

  
Dean dressed while Cas stood, shifting from foot to foot. Meg had left them alone. “Cas, I really am okay.”

  
“I know,” Cas said, his smile wan in comparison to what Dean was used to. “If I haven’t told you, I’m proud of what you do, Dean.”

  
The tight vice he’d felt in his chest eased. He grinned and gave Cas a quick kiss. “The chief made me take the rest of shift off. I’m going to ride back with the crew, but if you’re free, I’ll swing by your apartment.”

  
There was the smile he knew and loved…wait…no. He was quiet on the way back to the station. The men filled him in on the old woman’s condition. She was going to make it. He was happy, but his mind still reeled. Did he love Cas?”

  
Dean showered and changed into his street clothes. He found Benny in the kitchen. With a solid punch to the arm, he growled, “Give me phone back, Asshole.”

  
Benny pulled Dean’s phone out of his pocket, a sheepish grin on his face. “You pissed I called your boyfriend?”

  
“Fuck yeah. You scared the shit out of him.”

  
“If it had been Garth, would you have called Jenny?” Dean thought for a second. He nodded reluctantly.

  
“That’s different though.”

  
“How so?”

  
“Fuck you,” Dean said instead of answering. Family was family. Loved ones had a right to know if a crew member was injured, even a minor injury. You didn’t want anyone seeing their husband or whoever on a stretcher plastered all over social media and it happened a lot these days. Benny’s knowing smile told him they were square.

  
He checked in with the chief once more and drove the few blocks to Cas’ building. He parked in Cas’ slot and took the elevator. It opened on the first floor so a couple could get on. Zachariah held the door. “Mr. Novak told me what happened today. Thank you for what you do. He’s upstairs and I know he’s very glad you’re safe.”

  
“Thanks, Zach.” The doorman winched at the nickname and let the door slide shut. The couple, in true New Yorker fashion, minded their own business.

  
Cas opened the door after the first knock. He pulled him inside and hugged him close. “Sit down and I’ll get you something to drink. Beer? Water?”

  
“Beer would be good and you don’t have to wait on me, Cas. I’m fine.”

  
“I know…but just let me…” Cas moved his hands nervously. Dean felt a wave of affection for the man.

  
“Fine. While you’re at it, I’m starving…got snacks?”

  
“What would you like?”

  
“I’m easy. Not cheap, but easy,” Dean teased. Cas went to the big stainless steel fridge and got him a beer. Then he picked up the phone that hung on the wall. He consulted some colored paper on a small bulletin board and dialed.

  
“Yes, Castiel Novak, Ambassador Apartments, 11B. Delivery please. Two egg rolls, steamed dumplings, two orders of fried rice, beef with broccoli, Kung Pao chicken and sweet and sour shrimp. Yes. Thank you.”

  
“Yo, Cas, you feeding an army?”

  
“We may want leftovers. The food should be here in a half hour.” He stood in the middle of the floor looking at Dean. Dean was the first to look away. “Would you like to…” Cas seemed awfully nervous.

  
“You okay?”

  
“Yes..yes. I just realized that you like to watch TV and I don’t have one. I have nothing for us to do.”

  
Dean stood up and walked over to the man. When he was about a foot away, he stopped. “Cas, you don’t have to entertain me. Wait…hey…play me a song,” Dean said, gesturing towards the piano.

  
“You don’t want to hear…”

  
“Play,” Dean took a commanding tone and he saw Cas’ skin flush. Cas sat down on the black lacquer seat and sat his fingers on the keys. He appeared to be deep in thought. He began to play. Dean didn’t do classical music and wouldn’t know Beethoven from Chopin, but he could tell Cas was talented. His long fingers flew, the notes rang out loud and clear. When the song was finished, Dean motioned for him so scoot over and Dean sat next to him. “You know this one?” Dean asked and began playing one of the only songs he really remembered from his childhood lessons.

  
Cas chuckled when Dean played the opening bars of Chopsticks. Cas joined in at the right time and they finished the simple duet with a flourish. Grinning, they high fived each other. The doorbell rang.

  
Dean ate until he felt like he was carrying a food baby. He patted his belly and slumped back on the couch. “God, why did you let me eat so much.”

  
“I tried to tell you that last helping of rice was a mistake.”

  
“Bite me.” Cas’ eyes drifted down to Dean’s lips at Dean’s comment. Dean licked his lips in what he hoped was a seductive manner. Something flared in Cas’ eyes. Dean stood abruptly. “Let’s see how good you are at pool.”

  
“Are you challenging me, Dean?”

  
“Yep.” Dean opened the pocket doors and turned on the lights. Cas racked the balls and Dean broke. Cas was good, but Dean was better. He won the first game and the next. He realized it had been a long time since he was this relaxed. Since he was this happy.

 


	6. Chapter 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the delay, I left my external hard drive at the house yesterday and couldn't write. I was depressed all day long. So, this chapter has sex to make up for it. Some people might think the photos at the bottom are NSFW, some won't. Just a warning to be on the safe side.

Castiel couldn’t keep his eyes off Dean. He couldn’t concentrate on the damn game. Dean was wiping the table with him. Dean leaned over to sink the one of the solid balls and his ass was so…damn…perfect. Castiel moved forward as if in a trance. He nudged his hips against Dean’s ass and Dean froze. “Cas? Not that I’m complaining, but if we ain’t gonna follow through with sex, I’m going to need you to stop or I’m going to embarrass myself.”

  
He didn’t look up, just stayed bent over the table, waiting for Castiel’s next move. “Dean, I want…” Dean was quick, very quick. He had Castiel pressed back against the table.

  
“No more teasing, Cas. You want this. I know you do.” To prove his point, he cupped Castiel’s erection and applied enough pressure to almost hurt.

  
“Yes…” Clothing flew. It was like a mad rush to see who could get naked first. Down to their boxers, breathing already harsh like they’d run a marathon, Castiel moved into Dean’s personal space. Castiel let his eyes roam over Dean’s body. He’d seen it devoid of all clothing. He’d seen Dean aroused. This was different. Then he couldn’t touch…Dean wasn’t his. But now…

  
In a show of strength he didn’t know he had, Castiel gripped Dean’s hips, lifting him up and onto the table. He pressed between his spread legs. “Dean,” whispered Castiel reverently. He crawled onto the felted surface, eyes locked on Dean’s. Damn the man, he winked up at Castiel right before he wrapped his palm around Castiel’s neck and pulled him down. The kiss was all teeth and tongue, wet and bruising. He felt Dean’s legs around his waist, dragging him down…crotch to throbbing crotch. Castiel gasped at the first contact. Their boxers couldn’t contain the heat…the need. Both of Dean’s hands gripped his hair, keeping him in place, keeping his lips on Dean’s.

  
He couldn’t breathe…didn’t want to. He just wanted to feel. Not just the physical…that alone was a heady feeling, but he wanted to feel the connection they had…he knew how he felt about Dean and even if Dean didn’t…wasn’t…it didn’t matter.

  
Castiel pulled away from the heated kiss. Using one arm to hold himself up, he used the other to touch Dean’s face. “Do you believe in fate?”

  
Dean’s eyes, so filled with desire, were filled with confusion. “Huh?”

  
“Fate? Do you believe in fate, Dean?”

  
“I’m not…really sure…but I do know that now isn’t the time for a psychological discussion.” He reached for Castiel’s neck again.

  
“No…wait…that day I first saw you…I hit my snooze bar. It’s something I never do. I got up and rushed, because I didn’t want to be late…I’m never late.” Dean was staring at him now, confusion and lust had given way to interest. “I was all set to walk to work. I always walk to work unless it’s raining. I got in the elevator and it opened on the third floor. The smell of bacon hit me and I noticed the man that got on was holding a breakfast sandwich of some sort. Meg…Meg always bragged about these donuts from a local bakery…maple bacon…and I realized that I wanted one. I don’t even eat breakfast usually.”

  
Dean’s smile was soft and he traced a fingertip over Castiel’s jawline. “Hey, I get it. Bacon is proof there is a God and he loves us.”

  
Castiel grinned. “Yes…” Dean’s touch and the look in his eyes disrupted Castiel’s thoughts for a moment. “I had Zachariah call for a car service. One was close by and picked me up. I told the driver to stop at the bakery…that’s when we were hit in the intersection. I made sure the driver was okay and then I got out to check on everyone else. When I looked up, you were there. I see beautiful men every day, but you took my breath away.”

  
“Cas…come on…” Dean’s face turned light pink.

  
“It’s true. You spoke to me. Do you remember?” Dean frowned.

  
“No, of course you don’t…and that’s okay…really it is.” Castiel wanted to erase the lines on Dean’s brow. “I watched you work. You weren’t just playing at something, you were real. A real man doing a real job and I wanted you…even if it was only a picture in a magazine…I just wanted you.”

  
“So, you think it’s fate that brought you to that intersection, at that point in time?”

  
“I do.” Dean exhaled softly and nodded.

  
“Maybe so, Cas. All I know is that I’m glad we met. I’m glad you proved to me that being rich doesn’t always mean you’re an asshole.”

  
Castiel’s next kiss was soft…affectionate. Dean heaved upwards and rolled them, effectively putting Castiel on the bottom. Their erections had flagged, but Dean’s hips moved over his in smooth, easy rolls that got them both back in the game. Castiel hooked his fingers in the waistband of Dean’s boxers and pushed them down until he could put his palms on the smooth skin of Dean’s ass. Dean yanked his boxers off and tossed them aside. “Lift your hips, Babe.” Castiel did as he was told and his underwear joined Dean’s on the floor. Dean was up on his knees and Castiel looked down their bodies. Seeing their cocks, both cut and hard, made him catch his breath. He reached down, taking both of them in his fist. Dean closed his eyes and moaned. “God, Cas…need to move…”

  
Castiel moved his hand up and down. Relishing the velvety feel of Dean’s cock against his own. “Not what I meant, Cas,” Dean said with a breathless laugh. “Bedroom.”

  
“Not now…” Castiel didn’t want to interrupt what they were doing…he was so turned on.

  
“Cas…fuck…felt…” Castiel furrowed his brow. What was Dean trying to say? Castiel could hear wheezing and worried about the smoke inhalation. Was he okay? Did they need to stop? Dean covered Castiel’s hand with his own. “Don’t want to get jizz on the felt.”

  
“If you are worried about the damn pool table while I’ve got my hand around your cock, then I must be doing something wrong,” he said. He thrust his hips up, creating more friction. Running his thumb over Dean’s slit, he slicked up his hand with their arousal.

  
“Fuck…”

It was finally happening and Dean was suddenly a nervous wreck. Everything was hot and heavy, but then Cas had to go and talk about fate. And how Dean took his breath away. It made Dean feel things. The things he’d been feeling for a long time, but had shut away in the dark recesses of his mind.

  
Dean had to get them away from light and fluffy and back to hot and heavy. He flipped them, pressing his half-hard cock against Cas’. Had to get them naked. Before he could get with the program again, Cas took over and damn…he looked down at Cas, his face framed by green felt and…and…

  
“Cas…fuck…felt…” Castiel was looking up at him like he’d lost his mind. Dean covered Cas’ hand with his own, slowing it down. “Don’t want to get jizz on the felt.”

  
“If you are worried about the damn pool table while I’ve got my hand around your cock, then I must be doing something wrong,” Cas said…okay…no…it was more like he growled. He thrust his hips up and Dean couldn’t remember why he wanted to stop. Looking down between them at Cas’ fist pumping their cocks…Dean couldn’t remember his own name.

  
“Fuck…” Had it been only a month since they’d met? A month of sexual tension…Dean was usually proud of the way he could outlast his partners, but this was…this was Cas…their first time together… “Cas…gonna…fuck…Cas…” He was gasping for air now and he felt lightheaded. He knew some of it was the aftereffects of breathing in all that smoke, but he didn’t care how bad his lungs ached. Cas arched up and his eyes went wide.

  
“Dean…” Dean felt his orgasm rip through him at the same time Cas cried out his name. He rocked into Cas’ fist a few more times until the friction became painful. Still on all fours, he looked down at Cas’ face. His eyes were closed and he was breathing like a locomotive. He looked at the colored balls around them and began to laugh. Cas opened his eyes, squinting up at Dean. “What’s so funny?”

  
“We just had sex…well, not really…but you know what I mean…on your fuckin’ pool table.”

  
The corner of Cas’ mouth turned up. “That will make it a memorable experience.”

  
Dean gazed down at him affectionately. “I’ll never forget it.”

  
Now that the race to the finish line was over, Dean really was worried about the felt. He carefully crab walked backwards until he could ease his legs to the floor. He saw the evidence of their combined orgasms pooling on Cas’ stomach. “Give me your hands.”  
Cas obliged and he did his best to pull Cas to a sitting position without the majority of their cum getting on the table. Once Cas was standing, Dean risked a glance down and moaned. There was a dark shape on the green material caused by sweat and a few drops of spunk next to it.

  
“Dean, it can be cleaned…or fuckin’ replaced…I don’t care.”

  
“It’s fuckin’ sacrilege, Cas.” He touched the smooth wooden frame of the table and eyed the stains distrustfully. “Sacrilege.”

  
Cas was still reassuring him that he would take care of the pool table when they got out of the shower. And the shower took a very long time. Dean was amazed by the amount of hot water Cas had. If his water heater was this good, he’d never leave his bathroom. It had the cool side jets that Dean couldn’t stop playing with. Too bad his bathroom renovations were done. He had shower envy. Pure and simple. The humidity of the shower calmed the wheezing sounds in his lungs and he felt better.

  
After a dinner of takeout sub sandwiches and chips, the two spent the rest of the night in Cas’ bed. They talked and then traded soft kisses. Soft kisses led to deeper, more passionate kisses and Dean spread his legs in open invitation. Cas stilled. “You…I didn’t expect…”

  
Dean took Cas’ hand and placed it on the sensitive skin behind his balls. “No labels. I like it both ways, Cas.”

  
“I…I’ve done both as well.” Cas’ fingers pressed into Dean’s perineum, seeking that perfect spot and…yep…he found it. Dean’s cock twitched in response. He gave it a few pumps. Cas watched his hand for a moment or two and then sat up. He reached into his nightstand drawer and brought out lube and a condom.

  
Cas was a gentle and patient lover despite their act of lust on the pool table. He made sure Dean was comfortable and ready for him. When he finally pushed inside, Dean couldn’t believe how good it felt to be filled. With his legs over Cas’ shoulders, Dean could watch Cas fucking into him. Seeing Cas’ cock disappearing into his body over and over again, hearing Cas’ small moans of pleasure, the drag and pull as he was made love to was driving Dean closer to the edge. He wanted to scream at Cas to go faster, to fuck him harder, but he wanted this to last forever. Cas was looking at him with that same expression…like he thought Dean hung the fuckin’ moon.

  
Later, when Cas wiped away the lube and cum with a warm washcloth, Dean said, “It’s late…I should probably go.”

  
“Go? Oh…I thought…” Cas looked disappointed.

  
“Unless you want me to…stay?” Dean mentally crossed his fingers.

  
“I do…want you to stay.” Dean grinned.

  
“Good.” He fell back on the pillow. Cas lay beside him. He drifted off to sleep easily.

  
When he woke the next morning, the bed was empty. Frowning, he looked at the alarm clock on Cas’ side of the bed. It was after seven. He clasped his hands behind his head. He really needed to go home and work on the house. He had the new flooring for the guest room sitting in his garage. Catching movement out of the corner of his eye, he turned his head and saw Cas standing at the doorway holding two cups of coffee. He was wearing a pair of dark blue pajama pants. “Morning, Cas.”

  
“Good morning, Dean. Sleep well?”

  
Dean answered with a grin. “Yeah, how about you?”

  
“Better than I have in a long time.” He stepped closer and handed one of the mugs to Dean. Dean breathed in the scent of the freshly brewed coffee and sighed.

  
“Do you have plans for the day?” Cas asked casually…too casually. Dean took a sip of his coffee before answering.

  
“I need to lay the new floor in the guest room.” Cas’ face showed no emotion, but his eyes showed their disappointment. “What do you have planned?”

  
“I’ll go into the office,” Cas said, sitting down on the edge of the bed. Dean reached out and trailed his fingers down the Cas’ bare back.

  
“Nope.” Cas narrowed his eyes at Dean.

  
“Nope?” Cas asked quizzically.

  
“Nope. It’s Sunday, Cas. You can’t work on Sundays…I think it’s a law somewhere.”

  
“You’re thinking of the Sabbath, Dean. It’s a day of rest commanded by God in Exodus.”

  
“I knew that,” Dean said smugly. Well, that was partially true. He knew about the Sabbath, but not that it was in Exodus.

  
“Since I’m not religious, I don’t follow religious doctrine, Dean. Besides, you are going to be ‘working’ on your house.” Dean loved how Cas did the air quotes.

  
“Tell you what, if you don’t work, I won’t work. Deal?”

  
“Are we going to not work together?” Cas asked hopefully.

  
“Sure. In fact, I’ve got a few things we could do.”

  
Dean dressed in his jeans from yesterday, but borrowed a shirt from Cas. He used Cas’ toiletries and thank God, Cas had extra toothbrushes.

  
Dean led the way out onto the sidewalk after a brief nod at Zachariah. Hand in hand, they walked down Madison Avenue, stopping occasionally to look into shop windows. Dean took a selfie of the two of them on the steps of St. Patrick’s Cathdral. At the last second, Cas kissed Dean on the cheek. Dean loved the picture. When they got to the Empire State Building, Cas grinned. “Becky said we had to go to the top for some reason. She believes it is a romantic thing to do.”

  
“Cas, come on. An Affair To Remember? Sleepless in Seattle?”

  
“I don’t understand…”

  
“Movies, Cas. We are going to have to do a movie night soon.”

  
Dean paid for their two tickets and they took the elevator up to the 86th floor observation deck. “I can’t believe you’ve never been up here,” Dean said over the sound of the wind. It was freezing, but his hand in Cas felt warm.

  
“Maybe because I’ve never had anyone to come up here with,” Cas said smoothly. The elderly couple next to them smiled.

  
“He’s a romantic one. You better keep him,” the woman told Dean.

  
“I plan on it,” Dean said with a smile. He felt Cas squeeze his hand. They didn’t stay long because of the cold, but down on the street again, Dean pulled Cas along as they turned onto 34th Street. Dean grinned when they got to the crowds in front of the Macy’s windows. “I brought Mom here last year. She loves this kind of stuff.”

  
The theme was a Charlie Brown Christmas. He watched Cas’ face light up like a child’s. Dean was digging Snoopy riding on his doghouse, but Cas was enraptured by the giant keyboard with all the characters standing on them.

  
Both shivering from the cold, they ducked into a small café and ordered hot chocolate. Dean looked across the small table at Cas. His face reddened by the freezing temperature, lips chapped from the wind and eyes alight as he talked about his love of Charlie Brown as a child…Dean’s heart beat faster…he loved this man.

  
Dean left Cas’ apartment when they got back with the excuse that he had visit his mother. It wasn’t really an excuse…

  
His mother was sitting on her recliner with her remote watching Wheel of Fortune. “Hey, Mom.”

  
She got ready to stand and he waved her down. He bent to hug her. “What brings you by, Honey? Not that I’m complaining.”

  
“I just…” Dean sat down on the sofa and Mary muted the television.

  
“Dean, what is it?”

  
And the words spilled out from their first disastrous date to his epiphany at the diner. “You always said someone would come along. But I was afraid…I’m still afraid. He treats me like I’m someone special.”

  
“Oh, Sweetie, you are someone special. I saw the way he looked at you Thanksgiving. His eyes never left you. And please, don’t be afraid of loving him.”

  
“But you loved dad and look…” She put a finger to his lips.

  
“Your dad had demons, Dean. You can’t base your future on mine and your father’s past.”

  
When he left for home, he felt better. His mom always knew what to say.

Monday was so chaotic at the office, Castiel didn’t have time for lunch, let alone a call to Dean. They trade a few texts and Castiel didn’t let himself into his apartment until well after eight that night. He called Dean when he got settled. It was nice to hear his voice. As they talked about their days, Castiel wandered through the rooms. When he got to the billiard room he laughed.

  
“What’s so funny?” Dean asked. He’d been in the middle of telling Castiel about his broken table saw.

  
“I just saw the pool table and realized that you were right, I will have to get it cleaned.” He strode back to the dining room table where he left his briefcase. Dean was laughing too. He made himself a note and stuck it to his dayplanner.

  
Castiel knew Dean was on shift tomorrow, but he didn’t want to hang up. “Have you gotten your things packed for tomorrow?”

  
“Not yet.”

  
“Oh, well…I should let you get to it then,” Castiel said, trying not to sound depressed.

  
“Don’t forget about lunch on Wednesday,” Dean reminded him. Like he could forget Dean’s shift’s Christmas luncheon. It was on his calendar and he was embarrassed that he’d drawn hearts around the notation. He was thankful that no one had access to his calendar but him.

  
Tuesday was a blur and Castiel found that he’d wasted the entire afternoon texting Dean back and forth about the merits of owning a car in New York City.

  
Wednesday morning, Cas had a bounce in his step and Becky noticed. “Excited about your lunch date?” She kept a copy of his calendar, but fortunately his personal notations could not be seen.

  
“I am,” Castiel said truthfully.

Since Dean was off shift, he picked Castiel up at the front door to the offices of Novak Publications. The parking lot in the back of the station was packed and Dean had to park on the street. They walked in and Dean was greeted by everyone. Long tables sat in the middle of the bay. The trucks had been pulled out on the front apron and the doors were closed against the cold. Firefighters and their families were crowded around eating and talking. A man dressed as Santa was seated in a corner and children gathered around him. Dean introduced Castiel to so many people that he had no hopes of remembering anyone. They fixed themselves plates and Castiel listened to Dean and his friends. He pulled Castiel into the conversations when he could. No one seemed put off by the fact that Dean brought a man as his date.

  
Castiel looked at his watch and realized his lunch hour had come and gone. “Dean, I’m going to call a cab.” He pointed to his watch.

  
“No, that’s okay. I’ll take you back to the office.” Dean stood up and Castiel pushed his shoulders back down.

  
“No, stay. You’re having fun.”

  
“Okay, but you have to do one more thing while you wait for the cab.” Castiel agreed and took out his phone. Once the taxi was ordered, he looked expectantly at Dean. With an evil grin, Dean took his hand and led him to the Santa.

  
“No, Dean.”

  
“Yep. You’ve got to tell Santa what you want for Christmas.”

  
“No.” Castiel looked around and noticed some of the men on Dean’s shift were making their way over to them.

  
“What’s the matter, Winchester? Your boyfriend afraid to sit on Santa’s lap?” Castiel was surprised that Dean’s chief was the one heckling him.

  
“I think he is, Chief,” Dean teased. Castiel gave him a look that told Dean he would pay for this later.

  
“Fine, but only if you go first,” Castiel challenged.

  
Dean gave him a salute and marched up to the Santa. Dean plopped down on the man’s lap and whispered in his ear. He never took his eyes off Castiel. Santa looked at Castiel and smiled. When it was his turn, Castiel gingerly lowered himself to Santa’s lap.  
“I’m not sure what I’m doing here,” Castiel said self-consciously. Dean was watching him, arms crossed, smiling widely.

  
“Tell me what you want for Christmas.” Castiel recognized Benny’s voice. “I think Dean already has what he wants.”

  
Castiel looked into Benny’s face. “He does.”

  
“If you haven’t figured it out, then you aren’t as smart as Dean thinks you are.”

  
Castiel smiled. “I might want the same thing then.”

  
“So, have you told him how you feel?”

  
“No,” Castiel said softly. “I didn’t think he was ready to hear it.”

  
“Dumbass,” Benny said gruffly. “Both of you are crazy about each other.” Castiel smile widened. He saw Dean with his phone taking a picture of them.

  
He kissed Dean goodbye in front of one of the engines. The three trucks were decorated with large wreaths attached to their grills. He got into the cab and stared out the window as the driver drove through the thick traffic.

  
Behind his desk again, he decided to tell Dean how he felt. They had dinner plans and he had to leave early to get things ready.


	7. Chapter 7

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Definitely NSFW picture at the end of chapter.

Dean got to Cas’ at five. He wasn’t looking forward to this damn dinner cruise with a bunch of stuffed shirts. It was one of Novak Publications’ leading sponsors throwing the shindig. He adjusted his tie because it felt like his neck was in a noose. Suits were for funerals and weddings, not for dinner with his boyfriend.

  
Cas opened the door in a black suit, white shirt and striped blue tie. He looked gorgeous. Dean’s own suit was off the rack at JC Penny. Cas’ was tailored to fit him. It probably cost what Dean made in a month. Cas’ smile knocked the negative thoughts from Dean’s mind. “Hey, Babe. You ready?”

  
“Yes. The car should be out front in ten minutes. Do you want to have a drink first?” Cas stepped aside. Dean took off his black peacoat and scarf, gratefully following Cas to the bar. He walked by the pool table and winced.

  
“We gotta get that taken care of, Cas.” Cas followed Dean’s gaze to the stained felt.

  
“Zachariah let a cleaner in yesterday to get an estimate. I was told that the felt would need to be replaced.” Dean was staring at him, mouth opening and closing like a fish. “Dean?”

  
“You let your doorman up here to see…that?” Dean pointed accusingly at the stained fabric.

  
“Zachariah is a trusted employee of the building, Dean. He lets repairmen into the apartments all the time.” Cas wasn’t getting it and Dean facepalmed.

  
“Cas, Jesus, now he knows we fucked on your pool table.”

  
Cas’ head tilted to one side, obviously perplexed. “Dean, I’m sure Zachariah assumed we were having sexual relations long before we actually did. Are you embarrassed that people know we are together?”

  
“Fuck…no…but it’s one thing when people ‘assume’, but another when you give them the dirty laundry.”

  
“I didn’t give Zachariah my laundry…my cleaning service does that.”

  
“Cas…” Dean shook his head and put his palm against Cas’ cheek. “Don’t ever change, Babe.”

  
Still looking slightly confused, Cas poured them each a tumbler of whiskey. Cas took a sip and Dean belted his back. The burn hit his throat and flooded his stomach with warmth. Cas’ face scrunched up. “What?”

  
“You just shot back a ten year old single malt like it was a cheap bar drink.”

  
Dean picked up the bottle. He couldn’t even pronounce it. “So, how much does a bottle of this Connie-ma-ra stuff cost?”

  
“Connemara,” Cas corrected. “This bottle costs about four hundred dollars.”

  
Dean’s eyes widened in shock. “You paid four hundred dollars for a bottle of booze? Sweet Baby Jesus.”

  
“It was a gift from my brother. And booze is not the way one would describe Connemara. If you would have taken the time to savor the taste, you would have picked up on the smokiness with an underlying sweetness…almost like toffee with a hint of chocolate.”

  
“Uh huh,” Dean said, nodding like he knew what the fuck Cas was talking about. Underlying sweetness…smokiness…it tasted like whiskey to Dean. Good whiskey, but still… “So, I just shot about fifty bucks, huh?”

  
Cas shot the rest of his back and smiled. He cupped the back of Dean’s neck and pulled him in. Dean tasted the whiskey on his lips…his tongue… “Maybe I do taste toffee,” Dean whispered against Cas’ mouth.

  
The ride to the marina took forty minutes. They spent the time talking about their younger selves. Instead of feeling inferior, Dean found he was proud of Cas’ college education. He teased him about wasting his college years studying instead of drinking and partying. The car stopped in front of a huge yacht decked out with strings of white lights. A big Christmas tree was on the top deck and a star was outlined in more lights near the stern. Music came from the boat. “Snazzy,” Dean said, letting Cas take his hand. They boarded and tuxedoed waiters offered them champagne. Dean declined. He wondered if he could get a beer.

  
Inside the main cabin, people milled about. The women were dressed to the nines, some in long gowns, some in short cocktail dresses. Dean figured there had to be a million or two in diamonds on the ladies’ necks, wrists and ears. “Tell me again who’s throwing this party.”

  
Cas leaned over and said, “SiriusXM.”

  
“Hey, can you hook me up with satellite radio?” Dean asked, not serious.

  
“If you want it, I can buy it for you, Dean.” Dean frowned.

  
“If I wanted it, I’d buy it myself, Cas.” His tone was sharper than he’d intended, but he didn’t need Cas to buy him stuff.

  
“I apologize. I was under the impression that when you…cared about someone, buying them gifts was a token of affection. I stand corrected.” Cas didn’t meet his eyes. He was staring out the window at the inky black water. Dean heard the engines start.  
“Look, Cas…”

  
“Perhaps we should find our way to the buffet,” Cas cut him off. Dean could read body language and Cas’ was giving off the ‘I’m fucking pissed’ vibe. He started walking towards the stairway and Dean had no choice but to follow.

  
The next deck up held another bar and a huge buffet. Small tables were clustered around the room. Cas went to the bar and ordered Jameson neat. He nodded to Dean and Dean requested a beer. The bartender read a list of beers and Dean settled on a Sam Adams. Cas was staring down into his drink. “I’m sorry. I was a dick.”

  
Cas’ eyes came up to meet his and he looked so freakin’ unhappy that Dean felt the urge to hug him close. “I wanted to night to be special, Dean.”

  
“Hey, we’re together on a boat with two hundred strangers…I’d say that’s pretty damn special,” Dean said, trying for levity. It fell flat. Cas’ expression didn’t change. “Cas…” Dean sat his beer down and took the glass from Cas’ hand. After he put it on the bar, he pulled Cas into his arms. Fuck anyone who didn’t like it. Cas was stiff against him. “Please don’t let my bad manners ruin the evening. I can’t stand you being mad at me.”

  
“I love you, Dean.” Dean froze. Had he heard right? He pulled away a few inches so he could see Cas’ face. “I’m sorry…I know you think our backgrounds are too different to make a go of this, but I just wanted you to know that I do love you.”

  
“I’m crazy about you, Cas.” He wanted to say the words, but he was suddenly scared shitless. Cas loved him. Cas Novak, rich CEO with his fancy assed apartment and his four hundred dollar whiskey loved him.

Castiel’s plan for the evening was dashed at Dean’s defensiveness towards his offer of a gift. He couldn’t miss the flash of anger in Dean’s eyes. Castiel had led them blindly through the other guests and up the stairs. He got another whiskey and was planning to get drunk. He loved a man who couldn’t get past their differences. When Dean apologized, Castiel through caution to the wind. Dean might not love him, but he should know how Castiel felt. After his confession of love, Castiel expected Dean to answer with a sympathetic platitude.

  
“I’m crazy about you, Cas.” It wasn’t sympathetic drivel after all, it was probably worse. Castiel expected Dean to follow with something about them being friends, but Dean didn’t say anything else. He looked down at his feet.

  
“Would you care to go upstairs? I meant it to be a surprise…” Castiel began to make his way to the stairwell.

  
On the top deck, the wind whipped off the water, blowing Castiel’s lined trenchcoat around his legs. He made his way over to a group of men. Dean stopped abruptly. “Are they…is that…”

  
“SiriusXM also sponsors the New York Rangers. I thought you’d like to meet some of them.” Dean simply stared, obviously star struck. One of the men spotted Castiel and grinned.

  
“Hey, Castiel,” said Henrik Lundqvist, the goalie for the hockey team.

  
“Henrik, glad you could come tonight.” The rest of the team shook Castiel’s hand and then Castiel introduced Dean. “Everyone, this is Dean Winchester, he’s a New York City firefighter and my date for the evening. I think he’s a big fan.”

  
Castiel stepped back and watched as Dean and the players complimented each other on their jobs. Novak Publications had box seats for all the Ranger games and while he didn’t get to go to many, he participated in all their charity events. He knew most of the team by their first names. Castiel turned away and looked out at the city’s skyline. It was beautiful from the water. He’d dreamed of telling Dean how he felt with the skyline as a backdrop, something memorable. He felt Dean’s arms come around him from behind. “Thank you for that. They are awesome guys.”

  
“At least I did one thing right,” Castiel mumbled more to himself than Dean. Dean stiffened behind him and Castiel felt cold where Dean’s arms had been. Dean moved up beside him on the railing. Out of the corner of his eye, he could see Dean staring at the gorgeous view.

  
“You’ve done everything right since we first met, Cas. I’m the one that’s fucked up.” Castiel closed his eyes, but didn’t answer. “I…I…damn it, Cas, I love you. Okay, I said it.”

  
Castiel was sure his heart stopped and he slowly turned. “Dean, you don’t have to say what you don’t mean to spare my feelings.”

  
“I do mean it, Cas. When I left your place the other day, I stopped at my mom’s. I told her how I felt about you. I’m just so fuckin’ scared, Cas. You’re rich, powerful, fuckin’ smart…I’m just…”

  
Castiel’s mouth cut off Dean’s words. He reached up and gripped his short hair, tugging…holding him. When he came up for air, he rested his forehead against Dean’s. “I’m just a man in love, Dean. That’s all that matters.”

  
Dean blinked several times, but Castiel could see the moisture at the corners of his eyes. “God, I love you so much.” Dean kissed him again and again, nipping at Castiel’s bottom lip until Castiel thought he was going to lose his mind. The music and the noise of the crowd faded away until it was just the two of them.

  
Castiel vaguely remembered eating and talking to some of his colleagues, but mostly he remembered Dean’s constant presence beside him. When introduced, Dean stood proud, chin up. For the first time, maybe Dean was seeing himself as Castiel’s equal…his partner.

  
Close to midnight, the boat docked and their driver was waiting. They sat side by side in the backseat and watched the city through the windows, neither feeling the need to talk, just touch. Fingertips moved up and down thighs, hands touched wrists lightly, lips brushed against knuckles…and that was enough.

  
Castiel unlocked his apartment and they strolled inside. Castiel didn’t want his nervousness to show. They had sex before…so why did he feel like it was their first time?

  
Dean seemed to be just as nervous as he paced around the living room, hands running over the ebony surface of the piano, the back of the couch, stopping to look at the view. “Dean?”

  
He turned and shoved his hands in his pockets. “Yeah?”

  
“Spend the night with me?” It came out as a question. Dean smiled.

  
“Sure.” Castiel held out his hand and Dean walked across the room to take it. Cas turned on the light in his bedroom and then the bathroom. He bent over the large tub and pushed the button to stop up the drain. He caught Dean’s smirk as he dumped in the expensive bubble bath that smelled like roses. “A bubble bath?”

  
Castiel pushed Dean against the glass wall of the shower and pressed his body to Dean’s. “I think I’ve sufficiently proven my manhood, Dean,” he said, his voice deep and gravelly. To emphasize his statement, he pressed his hips into Dean’s. Dean’s eyebrows rose and his mouth opened into a small ‘o’.

  
He removed Dean’s clothes, tossing the suit and tie to the floor. When Dean’s chest was bare, Castiel palmed his erection. Dean thrust up into his hand. Steam clouded the mirror and hung in the air like a fog. Castiel got on his knees and unzipped Dean’s pants. He untied Dean’s shoes and slipped them off. His socks followed. His hands gripped the front of Dean’s thighs as he nuzzled his face against Dean’s dick, still confined in his boxer briefs. He mouthed down the length of it, Dean’s hands in his hair egging him on. Dean’s soft panting making his own cock strain for release.

  
With a grunt of frustration, Dean pulled him up. “You have too many clothes on.” With a total disregard for neatness, Dean stripped Castiel, clothes strewn all over the floor. When Castiel was completely nude, Dean hooked his thumbs in his waistband and pulled down his underwear. His cock sprang free, hard, tip glistening, jutting out from his body. The cocky bastard stroked his shaft and grinned. “Like what you see, Babe?”

  
“Get in the tub, Dean.”

  
“Eat your peas, Dean. Get in the tub, Dean. You’re really bossy…” Castiel tried to look menacing, but failed as both men laughed. They sank into the hot water, bubbles surrounding them. Dean lounged on one end while Castiel put his head to the other. Dean sighed and played with the beautifully scented foam.

  
“Well? What do you think?” Castiel asked after a few minutes.

  
“It’s nice,” Dean said noncommittally. Castiel cocked an eyebrow. “Alright, it’s really nice.”

  
Castiel played with Dean’s toes, loving how the man was ticklish. They wound up giggling like children, blowing foam at each other, sex forgotten for the moment. Castiel couldn’t remember the last time he’d laughed like this. Dean made him laugh and to Castiel, that was a precious gift.

  
They got out when the water was cool and their skin was wrinkled.

Drying off with one of Cas’ huge freakin’ towels, Dean watched his boyfriend. Cas hiked a foot up on the side of the tub to dry his legs and he could see his puckered, pink hole. He wanted to taste him, run his tongue around it until the neighbors knew Dean’s name.

  
They threw their towels over the shower wall and turned off the bathroom light. Cas walked to the wall switch, but Dean caught his hand. “No, I want to see your face.”

  
Cas’ hand stilled and then dropped. Dean knew what he wanted and he dropped onto Cas’ bed. “Come here, Cas. Sit on my chest.” Dean adjusted the pillow under his neck while Cas settled over him. Dean took Cas’ cock into his mouth and sucked him gently, letting his hands move up and down Cas’ muscular thighs. He flicked his tongue in and out of Cas’ slit, tasting the salty bitterness and he wanted more. He pulled off and looked up at Cas. “Hold onto the headboard.” Cas obeyed and Dean used his hands to get Cas into position. He was directly under Cas now. Dean could smell Cas’ scent, a tangy muskiness with a hint of roses. He flicked his tongue across Cas’ hole and Cas bucked, crying out in surprise. Dean steadied Cas’ hips with his hands and went to work. He licked and kissed, fucking his tongue into Cas tight heat. He reached down to touch his cock. He used his thumb to spread his precum up and down his shaft. Cas’ ass was quivering with each thrust of Dean’s tongue. From his viewpoint, he could see Cas’ beautiful cock, the head plum colored and slick. “Touch yourself, Cas.”

  
Cas gripped his cock and pulled, a groan escaped. “Dean…please…”

  
“I love eating your ass, Babe. Taste so fucking good.” Cas’ hand quickened…squeezing himself until his cock looked angry and painful. Dean flicked his tongue back and forth in time with his own hand stroking his dick. He was close. Their breaths sounded labored. He could see Cas’ balls drawing up close to his body. He stopped licking and sucked one of his fingers in his mouth. “Come on my face, Cas. Want to taste your cum.”

  
Cas’ moan was low and earthy as he shifted back, still on his knees…pumping his cock. Dean’s right hand moved faster and faster on his cock…his hips rolling upwards. Cas pupils were blown and he was gasping for air. “Dean…” His timing perfect, Dean pushed his spit slick finger into Cas just as his lover began to come. He felt the hot, thick ropes of cum hit his face, dripping down his cheeks. He opened his mouth, crying out as he felt his own orgasm rock him. Cas’ gave his cock one more squeeze and the remaining drops of cum landed on Dean’s tongue. He closed his eyes and swallowed. Cas carefully moved off him and eased down on his belly.

  
Dean knew he needed to get up and wipe his face, but he didn’t think his legs would hold him. Cas mumbled something into his pillow. Dean turned his head, grimacing when the cooling cum ran down his face and onto the bed. “What?”

  
Cas turned his face, eyes still glazed over. “I said, you’ve ruined me for everyone else.”

  
“Guess my evil plan worked,” Dean said with a grin. “You’re all mine now.”

  
It was only after they were cleaned up…Dean’s cum had coated Cas’ ass…that Dean looked at the clock and groaned. “Shit.”

  
“What?”

  
“You’ve got to get up for work in three hours.”

  
“I may call in sick.”

  
“Won’t your boss be mad? I’ve heard he’s a real dick,” Dean teased.

  
“So what…what can he do? Fire me?”

  
Cas slept beside him and Dean listened to his deep, even breathing. He got up carefully and found his cell phone. He sent a text to his mom, knowing she would get it when she woke.

  
**Text to Mom/2:33 – He loves me.**

  
He crawled back into bed and pulled Cas close and dreamed of bubble baths and Santa Claus.

  
Dean winced at the bright rays of sunshine piercing through the windows. He pulled a pillow over his eyes. Then he sat up quickly. The bed was empty. He glanced at the alarm clock. It was almost noon. He went straight to the bathroom and relieved his full bladder before finding his boxers. When he came out into the living room, Cas was sitting on the piano bench talking on the phone. With his back to him, he wasn’t aware of Dean’s presence.

  
“I do. With all my heart. Isn’t it too soon? What if he says no?”

  
Dean tripped over the carpet and yelped as he stubbed his toe on the coffee table. Cas looked up, startled. “Are you okay, Dean?” And then into the phone, “I think he tripped. He’s bouncing around holding his foot.”

  
“Who the fuck are you talking to…” Cas stood up.

  
“Language, Dean. It’s your mother.” Again to the phone. “Yes, he does have a potty mouth.”

  
Dean scowled. Cas was talking to his mother. Then he recognized his own phone. He made a grab for it. Cas turned to block the move. “Can I have MY phone to talk to MY mother?” Dean knew he sounded bratty, but having the two of them talking and not knowing what they were saying was making Dean nervous.

  
“He wants to talk to you. Yes, I loved talking to you too. Soon, I promise.” Cas handed the phone to Dean. Dean all but snatched it from his hand. “Mom, hey…”

  
“Hello, Sweetheart. Your Castiel is such a charmer.” Cas had shuffled off to the kitchen, so Dean walked to the wall of windows and looked out at the city. Snow was falling and by the looks of things, had fallen most of the night.

  
“Yes, he is,” Dean said petulantly. “What did you two talk about?”

  
“Oh…let’s see…we talked about Christmas plans, our favorite books, his family…oh, and he told me about some of your dates. The carriage ride, Dean, so romantic. He is smitten with you, Honey.”

  
“Don’t use the word smitten, Mom,” Dean said, feeling his cheeks heat.

  
“Why can’t she say smitten, Dean?” Cas was suddenly right behind him.

  
“Jesus, Cas, I’m gonna make you wear a freakin’ bell.”

  
“Dean, I’ve got to go. I’ll talk to you later, Sweetheart.”

  
“Bye,” Dean murmured and hung up. Cas was holding out a cup of coffee. Dean took it and gingerly sipped. “Why were you talking to my mother?”

  
“I got up to make coffee and your phone rang. Normally, I would not answer it, but I saw it was your mother and I wanted to say hello.” Cas looked apprehensive. “Are you angry?”

  
“No…no…” He ran his fingers through his hair. “It’s just strange, ya know?”

  
“How so?”

  
“It just is…” Now, he sounded unreasonable. “It would be like me talking to your sister or brother…” Cas was looking at him like he was nuts, but there was sadness in his eyes. “I’m not mad, Cas. Really. What did y’all talk about?” He’d heard what his mother said, but he wanted Cas’ take on the conversation.

  
“I just said good morning and asked how she was. I told her I would have you call her when you woke up….let’s see… Then she asked about my Christmas plans and I told her I didn’t really have any plans and before I knew it, I was telling her about our dates and what I was getting you for Christmas. Your mother should really work for the CIA, Dean.”

  
Dean laughed. “Yeah, you can’t hide anything from her.”

  
Cas stepped closer. “I didn’t get a chance to tell you good morning,” he whispered.

  
Dean smiled crookedly. “Good morning, Cas.” And then they were kissing. Dean freaked for a second about morning breath, but Cas didn’t seem to mind. Cas tasted of coffee and Dean moaned against his lips. “You call in sick?”

  
“I sent an email to Becky and Meg last night while you were brushing your teeth.” He took a sip of his coffee and looked out the window. “It really snowed last night.”

  
“Yep, it looks pretty from up here.” Dean stomach picked that moment to make it known he was hungry. He grinned ruefully. “Sorry, I’m starving. What’s for breakfast?”

  
“I have some fruit.”

  
Dean gave him a blank look. “Fruit? No, Cas, that won’t do. We gotta have real food. Hey, there’s a really cool bakery on the other side of the Park, let’s go.”

  
“I’ll call for a car and then we can shower,” Cas said, already turning. Dean caught his arm.

  
“No car. Let’s walk.”

  
“Dean, it’s freezing out there.”

  
“And the Park will be beautiful. Come on.” Between the two of them, they found enough warm clothing to outfit them both. Zachariah nodded a hello to them and they stepped out into the cold air. Despite the snow, the sidewalks were already busy and traffic jammed the streets. Dean grabbed Cas’ hand and started walking. Because of the cold temperatures and the snow, the Park was nearly empty. They trudged along the main walking path and Dean couldn’t help but stop and look around. “It really is pretty, isn’t it?”

  
Cas was staring at him, a soft smile gracing his lips. “Beautiful.” Dean shook his head, blushing.

  
“Come on,” he said, grinning like an idiot. They saw joggers and children playing, the dog walkers and the hot dog carts. Dean never thought he’d like the city, but it was always alive.


	8. Chapter 8

They stomped off the snow from their boots outside the bakery and walked inside. The aroma made Castiel pause to inhale deeply. Dean laughed at him, pushing him playfully forward. In the line, Dean wrapped his arms around Castiel from behind and put his chin on Castiel’s shoulder. “I love you.”

  
“I love you too, Dean,” Castiel murmured. It seemed Dean overcame his phobia of those three words.

  
When it was their turn, they ordered two coffees and three pastries. One of Castiel and two for Dean. Castiel found that he loved watching Dean eat. He ate the same way he did everything else – all or nothing. Castiel thought back to the feel of Dean’s tongue in his ass and suddenly the bakery seemed very warm.

  
Heading back to the apartment, they stopped to watch some kids throwing snowballs. One came dangerously close to Dean and with a grin, Dean joined the melee. Castiel stood watching as his boyfriend was bombarded by the children. Their screams of excitement and laughter had Castiel laughing. He couldn’t ever remember laughing as much until he met Dean. He’d never played hooky from work either.

  
Breathing hard from exertion, Dean joined him again and they continued their walk. Dean spun around, walking backwards facing him. “What where you talking about when you told my mom I might say no?”

  
Castiel’ brain ceased to function. What could he say? “I don’t remember,” he lied and even to his ears, it sounded lame.

  
Dean stopped. “You suck at lying, Cas.” Dean looked like he was trying to figure out why Castiel would even begin to lie to him.

  
“She asked me my intentions, Dean.” This wasn’t how this was supposed to happen. It was supposed to be romantic. There was supposed to be a ring.

  
“And what did you say?” Castiel looked down at his feet. Dean took his finger and put it under Castiel’s chin and raised his head. His green eyes were staring right into his soul.

  
“I said, I wanted to spend the rest of my life making you happy.” His words seemed to hang in the air around them. Dean didn’t speak, so Castiel went on. “She asked if I wanted to marry you and I said I did. She asked if I was in love with you and I told her with all my heart. Then she said to ask you, but I thought it was too soon. She said it wasn’t and that I should just do it.”

  
“What if he says no,” Dean whispered. “That’s what you asked her.”

  
Castiel nodded, his head barely moving.

  
“Cas, to be so fuckin’ smart…” Dean grabbed him roughly and pulled him into his arms. His hand cupped the back of Castiel’s head, holding him against his neck. Castiel closed his eyes and breathed in Dean’s scent. They didn’t speak, just held onto each other until Dean shivered. Castiel pulled back.

  
“It’s cold.”

  
“Yeah, Captain Obvious, let’s go home,” Dean said, taking Castiel’s hand again. Dean didn’t said yes, but he didn’t say no either and for that, Castiel was grateful.

  
They spent the rest of the day in bed naked. Dean logged into his Netflix account and they watched movies on Castiel’s laptop. Castiel found himself checking his phone several times. The office hadn’t called once. After they finished eating the pizza Castiel had delivered, Dean reluctantly searched for his clothes. Castiel knew his boyfriend was on shift the next day, but that didn’t make it any easier. He followed him to the door and they kissed like it was their last time. “Hey, I’ll call you when I get a chance.”  
Castiel turned on the Christmas tree lights and sat on the couch watching them blink. They hadn’t talked about the conversation in the Park. Castiel rose to get his phone off the nightstand. He came back into the living room and sat back down.

  
“Gabriel, it’s Castiel.”

  
“Hey, it’s too early for your obligatory Christmas call, so what’s up?” Gabriel’s statement took him aback. Did he only call his family on special occasions?

  
“I’ve met someone.”

  
“And?”

  
“And I’m in love with him.”

  
“That’s great, Little Bro. Invite me to the wedding.”

  
“Gabriel, can you come here for Christmas?” There was silence on the line and Castiel felt the nervous need to fill it. “I want you to meet him. And I really want to see you. Family is important to Dean and I’ve come to realize that it should be important to me too.”

  
“Let me clear my schedule. Are you going to call Anna and Tim?”

  
“I am.”

  
“Good. I’ll call my hotel and arrange for rooms.”

  
“Thank you, Gabriel. I…I love you.”

  
“You haven’t said that to me since you were in elementary school,” Gabriel said softly.

  
“I’m sorry. I’ve always felt it though. I should have said it more.”

  
“I love you too, kid. Gotta run. See you Christmas.”

  
Castiel smiled at the phone a few moments before dialing his sister’s number. He had the same conversation and it ended the same way. Anna and her husband, Senator Timothy Cain, were coming for Christmas.

Dean drove home after his shift. Saturday morning, with only thirteen more shopping days until Christmas and traffic was fuckin’ nuts. It took him well over an hour just to get to Queens. Another fifteen to get to his house. He took his laundry straight to the washer and started a load. He looked around his house and it had a weird unlived in vibe to it. Lately, he’s been either at the station or at Cas’ place. His tree looked kind of sad with no presents under it. That reminded him that he had to get his Christmas shopping done.

  
He sat down at his computer and pulled up his favorite shopping website. On a small pad of paper he wrote out his list. He already knew what he was getting most of the people on it. Cas was going to be hard to buy for because the man had everything. Everything but a freakin’ TV. But Dean couldn’t afford one of those.

  
Methodically, he plowed through his list and arranged for two-day shipping. Cas was the only one left. After staying with him, Dean knew the man didn’t have a whole lot of casual clothes and damn if his kitchen was mostly bare. Dean stood up, needing to think some more before he made a decision. He changed the load of laundry to the dryer and then called Cas.

  
“Morning, Babe.”

  
“Good morning, Dean. How was your shift?”

  
“Not bad. Only had five calls. That’s a good shift for this time of year.” Dean walked up the stairs. “Hey, what time is this thing tonight?” Cas’ office Christmas party was that evening. Dean wasn’t looking forward to it. He’d have to make nice with all those people who he had nothing in common with.

  
“Cocktails start at seven, so I need to be there around six-thirty. Meg assures me that everything is fine, but I do need to be there when everyone arrives. Could you be here around six?”

  
“Sure. And you said it was what…business casual?” Dean didn’t know what the fuck business casual was.

  
“Yes.”

  
“Cool. Alright, I’ll see you at six. Love you, Babe.”

  
“I love you too, Dean.” He looked at the finished floor of the guest room and took out the legal pad he kept for his list of renovation projects. He only had the back deck and repainting the downstairs bath left. He could do the deck until spring and he wasn’t in the mood for painting. He flopped down on his unmade bed and called his brother.

  
“Who’s this?” His brother said snarkily.

  
“Funny, Asshat. Got a question.”

  
“Gee, I’m fine, Dean. Thanks for asking.”

  
Dean sighed loudly. “Hi, Sammy, how’s life?”

  
“Tessa and I are fine. Mikey misses his Uncle Dean.”

  
“Mikey is a dog, Sam. I’m not an uncle to a dog.” Mikey was the Golden Retriever Tessa bought Sam for his birthday back in May. “When are you going to make me a real uncle? You aren’t getting any younger.”

  
“This coming from the man who will be thirty-eight in January. Who isn’t even married yet.”

  
Dean plunged in. “Cas and I are seeing each other and he told me he loves me and I said it back.” It all came out in a mad rush.

  
There was a long pause and then Sam said, “You said it back.”

  
“Yeah.”

  
“Did you mean it?”

  
“Well, duh…of course, I meant it.”

  
“Wow.”

  
“That’s all you got? I tell you I’m in love with someone and you just say ‘wow’.”

  
“I’m just in a state of shock here, Dean. I mean I’m happy for you…you know I am. Cas seems like a nice guy.”

  
“Yeah, well enough of the chick flick shit. That’s not the reason I called. What the fuck is business casual?”

  
“Business casual?”

  
“Yeah. I’ve gotta go to Cas’ office party tonight.”

  
“Normally business casual is a button down shirt and a pair of khakis or dress pants. No tie. You can throw a blazer on too…decent shoes…no work boots or sneakers.”

  
“So jeans are out?”

  
“Why don’t you just ask Cas?”

  
“Yeah, whatever.” The two brothers talked a little bit more and then Dean made himself some lunch. At four, he found himself staring into his closet. His suit was at the cleaners, not that he’d be wearing it, but he didn’t have any other dress pants. He found a pair of khakis in the back of the closet and tried them on. He couldn’t button them and tossed them to the side angrily. He’d packed on a few pounds over the last few months and he wasn’t happy about it. “Fuck it.”

  
He grabbed a pair of his newest jeans and a dark burgundy shirt. He had a pair of nice ankle boots he’d gotten on a whim the last time he took his mom to the outlet mall in Central Valley. He took a quick shower and shaved. He put some product in his hair and gave the mirror his best blue look. “Dean Winchester, you’re fuckin’ hot.”

  
Dean was knocking on Cas’ door at five fifty-five. Cas flung open the door, dress pants unzipped and shirt unbuttoned. “Whoa, you look good like that. Let’s just stay in and fuck until we can’t walk.”

  
Cas shook his head in exasperation. “Meg had an issue with the caterers and I’ve been on the phone threatening to sue for the past forty-five minutes.”

  
Dean walked past him. “Everything okay now?”

  
“Yes, it’s surprising what a few threats can get accomplished.” He disappeared down the hallway. Dean followed. He sat on the bed and watched Cas tear around the room. “Fuck,” Cas muttered, looking at himself in his dresser mirror.

“What’s that matter now?” Dean was now leaning against his headboard, legs crossed casually on his bedspread.

  
“I’d just gotten out of the shower when Meg called and I didn’t get a chance to blow dry my hair. It’s…” He ran his fingers through the unruly mess. “…it’s…”

  
“Sexy as fuck. You’re rocking the sex hair, Babe.”

  
Castiel stopped and stared at Dean. A slow smile warmed his face and he stopped worrying about his hair.

  
The limo was parked out front and Dean balked in the middle of the doorway. Castiel nearly ran into him and he had to grab his waist to keep his balance. “Why are you…”

  
“Another limo, Cas?” Dean asked incredulously.

  
Castiel mustered up the most pissed off face he had in his arsenal. Dean just lifted one eyebrow. “Get in the car, Dean.” He really needed to get over his aversion to Castiel’s modes of travel.

  
“Bossy,” Dean muttered, but got into the limo. The driver nodded to Castiel and closed the door after he took his seat next to Dean.

  
“I will show you bossy,” Castiel said soft and low next to Dean’s ear and the man shivered.

  
“Promise?” Castiel smirked and gave him a sharp nod. Dean leaned back and patted the leather seat. “Bossy’s good.”

  
Castiel opened the front door of the office building that housed Novak Publishing. The lobby had been transformed. A portable dance floor was set up by a DJ’s stand in the back corner. All the lush plants had been removed and more seating had been added. The caterers were still setting up near the back of the room. His eyes took in everything. A huge Christmas tree stood in the middle of the room and hundreds of packages littered the floor around it. Each department head was given a budget to buy gifts for their employees. It had been a great year for the company and this year’s gifts would reflect that. He spied Meg and pulled Dean over to her. She looked beautiful and he kissed her cheek. “You did a wonderful job, as usual, Meg.”

  
“Thanks, Clarence. Not sure what you said to the caterers, but they were on time and have been jumping through hoops to please me.” She turned to Dean. “Hello, Handsome.”

  
“Hi, Meg. You look nice tonight.”

  
“Thank you, Dean. You look good with your clothes on,” she teased. Dean chuckled.

  
“Meg, can you stay with Dean for a moment while I take care of a few things?”

  
“Too old for a babysitter, Cas,” Dean said with a pout. Castiel rolled his eyes and left them. He walked over to his head of accounting.

  
“Sebastian, you have the employee’s bonus checks?”

  
“Of course, they are already in envelopes and are in my office, locked up safe and sound.” He put his hand on Castiel’s arm. “I heard you were seeing someone seriously and I’ve got to say, Castiel, he’s gorgeous.” Castiel followed Sebastian’s gaze. Dean was laughing at something Meg said and yes, the man was incredibly beautiful, but it was Dean’s personality he’d fallen for. “And you are totally in love with him,” Sebastian said, staring at Castiel, looking awestruck.

  
“I am.” His old friend touched his face.

  
“Good. You deserve to be happy.”

  
By eight, the party was in full swing. There were people dancing and Dean was in a conversation with Becky, Meg and Charlie. The four had their heads together and they would occasionally burst into laughter. Castiel tried to get Dean’s attention, but failed, so he headed towards the buffet. Meg was right, the caterers had went above and beyond. Castiel fixed a small plate of shrimp and added a few more things. He took the plate to Dean. Dean looked up and then down at the plate. “Babe, you didn’t have to do that. I could have gotten my own.”

  
“I know. I was just trying to be a good boyfriend,” Castiel teased and the three women gave a collective ‘ahhh’. Dean blushed a bit, but he accepted the plate and even gave Castiel a chaste kiss. Castiel wandered off again, taking the time to greet and make small talk with all of his employees. The DJ put on a slow song and Castiel noticed couples moving in the direction of the dance floor. He felt arms around his waist.

  
“Let’s dance,” Dean said in his ear.

  
“I don’t…”

  
“Shut up and dance with me.” Dean pulled him onto the dance floor and took him into his arms. Castiel didn’t know where to put his hands. He’d been sent to dance and etiquette classes as a young man and his first instinct was to hold out his hand like he was going to waltz. Dean chuckled and manhandled his arms until they were around Dean’s neck. Dean’s hands rested on his hips. Dean swayed with the music. Castiel swayed with Dean. “See, easy.”

  
“This really isn’t dancing, Dean. We are standing on the dance floor swaying back and forth.” Castiel noticed some of his employees pointing and smiling at them.

  
“This is slow dancing, Cas. Look around you.” Castiel did as he was told. All the other couples were doing something similar to what they were doing.

  
“I find this acceptable,” Castiel said, pulling Dean even more flush with his body. He felt the vibration of Dean’s laughter and smiled.

  
Sebastian approached him at nine and told him it was time. He excused himself from the conversation he was having with the head of human resources to go to the DJ’s stand. He was handed a microphone by Meg.

  
“Excuse me, everyone.” The room immediately got quiet. “I just wanted to say a few things and Meg made me promise not to bore you.” There was laughter and Meg rolled her eyes.

  
“First let me say that Novak Publications wouldn’t be where it is today without all of you. You work hard and are loyal. For that, you should be rewarded. Sebastian has your bonus checks, so find him and pick up your envelope. There are also gifts under the tree from the company to you. I think Meg and Crowley are in charge of playing Santa this year and passing them out.

Dean didn’t expect to have a good time, but he’d been surprised. He even ventured off on his own a few times and found people to talk to. Cas’ secretary, Becky, was hilarious and she introduced him to tons of folks. She told him that Cas employed over a hundred people. He talked her into doing a shot with him and she confessed that she got tingly when she saw Cas and Dean dancing. He wasn’t sure what to say to that. He was saved by Cas’ voice coming out of the speakers.

  
He listened and as he did, he watched the reactions of Cas’ employees. They really liked him. Becky was constantly going on and on about how good of a boss Cas was, but he figured it was just because she knew they were dating. But all around him, people were looking up at his boyfriend like they thought he was an amazing person.

  
He was standing with Charlie when Meg called her name to get her gift. All around him, people where unwrapping digital cameras, gift cards, video gaming systems. Charlie came back holding up a gift certificate for a two night stay at one of the city’s nicest hotels. He saw Becky and her eyes were puffy. Concerned, he went to her. She was holding a folded sheet of paper in her hands. “Becky, you okay?”

  
She nodded and held out the letter to Dean.

  
**_Becky,_**

  
**_I know I can be overbearing and grumpy, but you are always there with a smile. You do a great job managing my professional life and so, this year I wanted to show you that I do listen to what you say, even if you don’t think so._ **

  
**_I had a talk with your building superintendent and you are now allowed to have a cat. I gave him a written promise from my attorney that I would personally pay for your pet deposit every Christmas for as long as you remained in my employ._ **

  
**_Thank you for putting up with me._ **

  
**_Castiel_ **

  
Dean looked up at her, still a bit confused. With a watery smile, Becky told him that she’s been wanting a kitten for years, but her landlord wouldn’t allow pets unless you came up with five hundred dollars a month. She’d never been able to afford it before. Stunned by the thoughtfulness of his boyfriend, the man he once looked down on because he was rich, Dean made his way to Cas’ side. He was talking to that Sebastian guy…the one that had touched Cas’ face earlier in the evening…the one he’d taken an instant dislike to. He wrapped his arm possessively around Cas’ waist. “Hey, Babe, can I talk to you a sec?”

  
“Sure. Excuse me, Sebastian.” Dean pulled him down the hallway that led to the breakroom. It was dark and Dean closed the door behind them. “Dean, why are we standing in the dark?”

  
“I love you, Cas Novak. I don’t think I realized how much until tonight.” Dean could just make out Cas’ features in the glow from the drink machines in the back of the room.

  
“I love you too, Dean,” Cas said softly, still looking unsure.

  
“Your employees love you…you know that, right?”

  
“I’d like to think that I’m a fair employer…”

  
“No, dumbass, they love you. They respect you. Becky, God, she thinks you walk on water and after your gift…fuck, I may have a fight on my hands to beat her to a prop…” Dean stopped. Sure, he’d had a few thoughts about their future…but was he ready? Apparently, his subconscious thought so. He’d almost blurted out the word proposal.

  
Cas was very still. Too still. Dean couldn’t think fast enough to cover his slip. Cas’ voice, when he finally spoke was low and hesitant. “Dean, beat you to what?”

  
“We should get back to the party. Meg might send out a search party,” Deans said, his words running together with his panic.

  
Cas reached into the pocket of his blazer. “I’ve been carrying this around since I bought it before the cruise. I wanted to give it to you that night…” he laughed softly. “…”but I wasn’t even sure how you even felt. I knew there would be no one else for me. It felt like a crazy thing to do…to buy a ring for a man you’ve only known a month.”

  
“Thirty-four days,” Dean whispered, because, yes, he’d counted. It had been thirty-four days since his photo shoot. Thirty-four days since blue eyes began to haunt his dreams and every waking moment.

  
“Dean...” Cas held out the small black box. “…I’m not sure what to do…”

  
“I think you get down on one knee and ask a question, Cas.” Cas’ smile lit up his face and Dean could see he was blinking back tears.

  
Cas dropped down to one knee and opened the box. He looked up at Dean. “I talked myself into waiting until Christmas to do this.”

  
“Sorry to ruin your plans. Now, get on with it,” Dean said, laughter in his voice.

  
Cas cleared his thought dramatically and held out the ring. “Dean Winchester, will you do me the honor of becoming my husband.”

  
“No more limos.”

  
Cas chuckled. “No more limos.”

  
“Kids?” Dean had to cover all the bases.

  
“Two.”

  
“Yes.”

  
“Yes?” Cas hand was shaking as he slipped the ring onto Dean’s finger.

  
“Yes.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> No, this isn't the end. I wouldn't leave you just hanging like that. Have faith.


	9. Chapter 9

The party was winding down. Castiel found Dean across the room talking to Charlie. They hadn’t announced their engagement to anyone at the party and if anyone noticed Dean’s ring, they weren’t talking. He was trying to focus on what Crowley was saying about his ideas for the Valentine’s Day spread in the February issue, but his eyes were drawn to Dean. As if sensing something, Dean turned and met his eyes.

  
“Excuse me, Crowley, I have something to take care of,” Castiel said, already walking towards Dean.

  
He placed his hand on the small of Dean’s back. “Charlie, could you excuse us for a minute?” Charlie nodded and wandered off towards the bar.

  
“How much longer do we have to stay, Cas? I want to get you home and…”

  
“Come with me, Dean,” Castiel interrupted and tugged him to the elevators. Dean didn’t say anything until the doors shut.

  
“Cas, are you okay?”

  
“I am very okay, Dean.” Dean didn’t look convinced. The doors dinged as they opened. As soon as Castiel shut and locked his office, he was on Dean. Pressing him against the door, his mouth took Dean’s. It took Dean all of three seconds to get with the program. “Knowing you’re mine…God…I’ve wanted you…”

  
He both heard and felt Dean’s low chuckle. “You’re horny.”

  
“Extremely.” Castiel stepped back, heart thudding solidly in his chest. “Take off your clothes, Dean.”

  
He saw the slight shiver and the flair of lust in Dean’s eyes. Dean took off his leather jacket and tossed it on the couch. He unbuttoned his shirt slowly…yes, he was stripping for Castiel and Castiel’s hand strayed down to his crotch. He was already hard. Dean let his shirt fall to the floor. Deliberately, he turned his back to Castiel and bent down to take off his boots. Castiel loved the way Dean’s jeans were molding his ass. Castiel’s hands clinched into fists, willing himself not to touch…not yet. With his back still to Castiel, Dean unsnapped his jeans and Castiel heard the unmistaken sound of Dean’s zipper being lowered.

  
Dean pushed his jeans down over his hips and Castiel inhaled sharply. Dean wasn’t wearing underwear. All he saw was the pale globes of his perfect ass. Dean turned at the same time he tossed his jeans aside. “Feels kind of dirty being naked in your office, Cas.”

  
“You’ll feel dirtier on your back on my desk,” Castiel said huskily. He peeled off his blazer and loosened his tie. They joined Dean’s clothing on the floor. He moved forward, putting his hands on Dean’s hips. “I want you…God, how I want you.”

  
“You have me, Cas,” Dean whispered, allowing himself to be backed up until his legs were pressed against Castiel’s big desk. Castiel took one quick look at his desk and shoved everything to the floor except his monitor and he pushed that to the far edge. Dean smirked. “You like fucking me on hard surfaces, don’t you?”

  
Castiel smiled. “I will never be able to look at that pool table the same again.” Dean laughed and sat down on Castiel’s desk. Castiel let his eyes roam up and down Dean’s body. He reached up and flicked his fingernail over one of Dean’s nipples and a soft ‘ah’ escaped Dean’s mouth as his head lulled back. He let his lips kiss a trail down Dean’s neck, stopping to take first one, then the other nipple in his mouth, lightly sucking on them before moving on.

  
“Babe…”

  
“Hmmmm,” murmured Castiel. He was working his way back up Dean’s neck now, feeling his pulse beat under the skin.

  
“Too many clothes,” Dean said softly, his hands coming up to rest on Castiel’s shoulders.

  
“Don’t move.” Castiel left Dean and strode to his bathroom. In the small cabinet where Castiel kept extra razors, shaving cream and other toiletries, he found what he was looking for. Taking the bottle of lubricant and a condom, he came back to Dean. Dean eyed the supplies.

  
“You kept lube and condoms in your office bathroom?”

  
“In another life, I may have been a boy scout.”

  
Dean shook his head, laughed softly and pulled him into his arms. He stood between Dean’s legs and let Dean unbuckle his belt. With a flick of his fingers, Castiel’s pants were undone and sagged down on his hips. Dean untucked his shirt and unbuttoned it. When he was done, he ran his hands up and down Castiel’s stomach and chest. They traded small kisses and then Dean lay back on the desk, his head pillowed on one of his arms. With his other hand, he stroked his cock. “Come on, Boy Scout, let’s see what you got.”

  
Castiel spread Dean’s thighs and tucked his feet up on the desk, giving him a wonderful view of Dean’s heavy sac and pink, puckered hole. He licked his lips. He wanted to taste him, but they were running out of time. With the party ending soon, security would begin shutting down the building. He picked up the lube and squeezed a healthy amount into his hand. Carefully, Castiel opened Dean up. He watched, spellbound, as his fingers slipped in and out of Dean. The soft purrs and moans coming out of Dean’s mouth were driving him crazy. “Hurry, Babe…I’m ready…”

  
Reluctantly, Castiel eased his fingers out of Dean and picked up the foil packet. He ripped it open with his teeth and rolled it down his shaft. Looking down at Dean sprawled on top of his desk was a heady experience. This beautiful man just agreed to be his forever. He watched Dean’s body swallow his cock inch by inch. Dean hissed as he was stretched to accommodate Castiel’s cock. Castiel threw his head back and moaned when his hips were flush with the back of Dean’s thighs. He stilled, watching Dean’s face. Dean opened his eyes, licked his lips and said, “Fuck me, Babe.”

  
Gripping Dean’s thighs for leverage, Castiel pulled out and slid back in. “God, Dean…”

  
Dean lifted his hips by wrapping his hands under the bend of his knees and pulling them upwards. That allowed Castiel to drive into him even deeper. He set a steady rhythm, rocking into Dean’s tight heat. His eyes flicked up to Dean’s face again. There was a look of intense concentration on Dean’s face and he was breathing out of his mouth, soft pants punctuated with moans of pleasure.

  
“Look so…good…on…my desk…” Castiel’s thrusts were faster and harder. Dean’s cock slapped against his belly, precum leaving slick trails. Castiel took it in his hand and stroked it up and down.

  
“Uh…uh…uh…” Dean grunted with each and every roll of Castiel’s hips. Castiel needed to feel Dean come on his cock. Wanted that hot tightness.

  
“Come for me, Dean,” Castiel ordered, his voice hoarse from breathing in and out of his mouth. He pounded into Dean, his hand on Dean’s cock moving in time with his thrusts. Dean’s skin was flushed with sexual arousal and a sheen of sweat marred his forehead.

  
“Fuck…Cas…gonna…gonna…” Dean’s words broke off and he stiffened, back arching off the desk.

  
Castiel murmured, “Yes…yes…yes,” as he watched Dean’s cum paint his belly and chest with thick, white strings. His cock felt like it was in a vice…a hot, slick vice. He bit down on his tongue to keep from crying out as his vision went to black for a split second. His hips bucked as he filled the condom.

  
Chests heaving, muscles trembling from exertion, the two men gazed at each other. Dean began to laugh. Castiel eased his softening cock out of him and gave him a perplexed look. “What’s so funny?”

  
“We just baptized your office,” he said with a grin. The grin faltered and he sat up. “Not that I’m hung up on your past, but have you ever brought anyone else…” Castiel put a finger to his lips to shush him.

  
“You are the only one I’ve ever brought up here.”

Since the Christmas party at Cas’ office, Dean’s belongings began migrating to Cas’ place. The only time he went to his own place was the night before a shift, so he could grab his sheets and towels for the station. Those were the nights he dreaded. Not because he had to work the next day, but because he had to sleep alone. He’d gotten used to Cas’ warmth and the way the man’s arms and legs would wrap around him while they slept. Waking with Cas was always interesting. The man was a grumpy ass until after his second cup of coffee.

  
The final days until Christmas flew by, he wanted to spend every waking minute with Cas, but he’d been neglecting his family and that’s why he was at the mall on the Friday before the holiday with his mother. When he told her the news about his engagement, she was happy, but still concerned they were rushing things. He explained that he and Cas planned to live together for a while before setting a date. Sam and Tessa were glad he was ‘settling down’. His crew was supportive and that’s all he could ask for.

  
“Are you sure about this, Sweetheart? You put a lot of love into renovating your house.”

  
“That’s what Cas said, but it’s just a house, Mom. Cas’ place is closer to the station, has parking for my baby and there’s the pool table.” Since Cas got the felt professionally cleaned, they’d played on a few times – no, not that type of play. The felt was sacred and Dean would not allow it to be defaced again, no matter how horny and persuasive Cas was. He was still sporting rug burns from the other night. Cas could be very persuasive.

  
“If you’re sure.”

  
“I’m good with it. Besides, the rental income will be good.” Cas might be rich, but Dean wasn’t going to live off of him like some gold-digger. They’d discussed money and Dean was adamant about keeping separate banking accounts even after they married.  
Dean helped his mom carry her packages to her car and kissed her goodbye. He would see her and the rest of his family at Cas’ on Christmas Eve. As he drove back into Manhattan, the feeling of apprehension grew. Cas’ brother and sister, along with the senator, were coming to New York for Christmas. He knew the real Cas behind all the money. His siblings…not so much. He’d overheard Cas talking to his sister the other night and a prenup was mentioned. Dean would gladly sign one, but Cas had been adamant with his sister that he would not be having one drawn up. He couldn’t bring it up because then had have to admit that he’d been eavesdropping, so he pushed it to the back of his mind.

  
Dean’s last shift before Christmas was the twenty-third. Cas was going to dinner with Gabriel, Anna and Tim that night and Dean was relieved he was working. He was on kitchen duty that night. Loading the last of the dishes into the commercial sized dishwasher, he was pulled out of his thoughts by Benny’s loud voice.

  
“Winchester, your boyfriend is here with visitors.” Dean looked up, brow furrowed. Why was Cas here? He wiped his hands on a towel and walked out to the bay. Cas and three other people were standing next to one of the trucks.

  
“This is the one Dean rides in.” Cas nudged his gear next to the door of the officer’s seat. “And this is his gear,” Cas said proudly.

  
“Cas?” Dean walked up.

  
“Dean.” Cas stepped forwards and kissed him. “Tim wanted to see where you worked. Tim, Anna, Gabriel, this is Dean.”

  
Dean stuck out his hand and shook hands with the taller man. He smiled warmly at Dean. “I wanted to be a fireman when I was a child…perhaps I never outgrew it.”

  
“Nice to meet you…Senator…”

  
“It’s Tim. You’re going to be family, after all.” Dean nodded and turned to the beautiful redhead beside him.

  
“Anna, I love your work,” Dean said and meant it. Cas had a few of Anna’s paintings hanging in his house. They were that weird abstract stuff with lots of splashed paint. Anna’s subjects were horses and dogs and real stuff.

  
“Thank you, Dean. I admire what you do. It takes someone special to risk their lives for strangers. Castiel is very proud of who you are.”

  
Dean looked at Cas. The other man was smiling and shrugged bashfully. “Dean doesn’t think he’s a hero, but I do.”

  
“I’m Gabriel,” the shorter man said, sticking out his hand. “We’re sorry about bothering you at work, but Tim wanted to play on a firetruck.”

  
Anna and Tim rolled their eyes and Dean laughed. He turned to the senator. “You want to take her around the block?” Tim’s face lit up like a kid on Christmas morning.

  
“Can we?”

  
“You’re a senator, I think we can get away with it. Let me just go tell the Captain.” Dean went back to the day room and cleared it with his captain. Tim Cain was a senator. Even if someone saw them and complained, a VIP ride-along was okay.

  
Tim crawled up into the officer’s seat, Dean got behind the wheel. Anna, Gabriel and Cas took three of the four seats in the back. Dean hit the switch that raised the bay door and pushed the ignition button. The big truck rumbled to life and Dean drove out onto the city street. Tim asked questions about the truck’s dashboard, the types of fires and other calls Dean went to and even how the different districts were set up within the city. Dean kept an ear turned to the radio. If they got a call, he’d have to get back to the station to get the crew. Thankfully, the senator got a full tour. As Dean expertly backed the twelve ton engine into its spot.

  
“Looking forward to getting to know you better, Winchester,” Gabriel said, as they got ready to leave. Anna and Tim were not what Dean expected, both were outgoing and friendly. Gabriel was more reserved with Dean. He joked with Cas and the other two, but he didn’t talk much to Dean at all.

  
The next morning, Dean got up and stripped his bunk. He gathered his laundry and his gear, stowing it in the trunk of the Impala. He got to Cas’ place and headed to the elevator. He stopped on the first floor. Zachariah was just coming into the building from the sidewalk. Dean held up a cup of coffee. “Morning, Zach. How’s it hanging?”

  
“Thank you, Mr. Winchester. It’s hanging long and slightly to the left.” The doorman took the coffee and did a fist bump with Dean. Dean tried so many times to get the doorman to call him Dean, but he just wouldn’t do it. He did share raunchy jokes with Dean though. Dean rode the elevator to Cas’ floor and pulled his key out of his pocket. Getting a key to Cas’ apartment wasn’t as romantic and dramatic as people like Becky would like to think. Cas just left it on the dining room table with a post-it note that read ‘take this’.

  
Cas had already left for work, so Dean made himself at home. He opened the fridge, which was now fully stocked, thanks to Dean. He grabbed a can of Coke and went over to the windows. He enjoyed watching the city wake up. Hard to believe today was Christmas Eve. Cas was only working until lunch. He was shutting down Novak Publishing at noon, so his employees could have a longer holiday with their families. He turned on the new television mounted above the fireplace and settled in to watch some court TV until Cas got home.

  
Their afternoon was busy. Cas had wanted to hire caterers for the family gathering, but Dean wouldn’t hear of it. He made Cas his sous chef and together they made enough food to feed an army. At six, Dean deemed them done and led Cas to the shower. A mutual handjob was all they had time for, but Dean planned for sex in front of the Christmas tree later after everyone left.

  
Later, Dean stood with his mother by the windows. “This is a lovely view.”

  
“Yeah, I like to drink my coffee here in the mornings, watching the city wake up.”

  
“Are you happy, Honey?” Mary looked up at him and Dean hugged her.

  
“Yes. I love him and he loves me. I can’t imagine my life without him.”

  
“My advice, never go to bed mad.” Dean chuckled.

  
“Cas believes in that rule. He makes me stay awake until we settle things.” Cas and Dean didn’t have too many fights, but the few they had were tough. Fortunately, Cas kept a cool head and let Dean rant until he was spent. Then Cas was say something totally logical and they’d compromise. The makeup sex was pretty damn awesome too.

  
Cas was playing a carol on the piano. Everyone was gathered around him, singing and having a good time. Tessa and Anna had really hit it off and they were laughing because they’d forgotten the words. Dean watched from the kitchen. He’d needed another beer. When he turned after pulling a Sam Adams out, Gabriel was standing there.

  
“Oh, hey. Need a beer?”

  
“No, I’m good.” He held up a can of root beer. Dean blushed.

  
“Sorry…if you can’t drink or anything…that’s cool. I wasn’t trying to push you to…” Dean stopped when Gabriel started laughing.

  
“I’m not an alcoholic, Dean. I drink, but I’d rather have sodas most of the time.”

  
“That’s cool.” God, he said ‘cool’ twice now. Why was he so nervous around Gabriel. He could take him easily. The guy was a good five inches shorter than he was and used to a cushy office.

  
“Castiel told us that you and he met when he was in a car accident.”

  
“That’s right,” Dean answered.

  
“And then you posed in Hunk…naked.”

  
Dean blushed and looked down at his feet. “Yeah.”

  
“He loves you.” Dean’s eyes rose to meet Gabriel’s.

  
“And I love him,” Dean said matter-of-factly. “Is this going to turn into one of those ‘you hurt my brother and I’ll kill you’ talks?”

  
“I wouldn’t kill you. I’d hire someone to do it.” The man said it so deadpan, that Dean swallowed hard and took a step back. Then he laughed. Dean frowned. “Don’t worry, anyone with half a brain can see that you two are crazy about each other. Now, where are the desserts? I’m still hungry.”

  
As their last guest left, Cas put his arms around Dean and pulled him close. “We survived our first party. You think everyone had a good time?”

  
“Yeah. Your family is great, Cas. Tim is funny and really cares about people. I didn’t expect that.”

  
“I love your family as well, Dean. We can count ourselves lucky.”

  
The tree’s blue lights cast a glow around the room when Dean turned off the lights. He pulled Cas down to the floor. He’d have more rug burns, but that was the last thing on his mind as his lips met Cas’.

  
**Epilogue**

  
Castiel gave the tree a critical look. Mary said it was perfect, but Castiel still wasn’t sure. The mixture of blue and green lights was beautiful and he sighed. It would have to do. It was just nerves. His living room had been cleared of furniture except for the piano. Rented chairs were in rows awaiting the ceremony. After a year living together, they were finally doing this. A fire danced merrily and his future mother-in-law was putting final touches on the flowers.

  
They’d agreed to a simple wedding. Only close friends and family. He ran his forefinger under his collar. It felt tight. “You okay?” Gabriel stood next to him wearing a matching tux.

  
“Yes.”

  
Gabriel huffed out a bark of laughter. “You can’t be nervous. Hell, the man worships the ground you walk on. And even I think he’s a good guy…and I hate everyone.”

  
“We had a fight yesterday.”

  
“About the prenup? Yeah, he told me.” Shocked, Castiel stared at his brother.

  
“He told you?”

  
“Yep. Said he was the one who had it drawn up.”

  
“He knew how I felt about it and did it anyway.” Castiel thought prenups were insane. It was like you expected the marriage to fail before it even begins. The fight had been one of their worst. Dean was supposed to spend the night with his mother anyway…something about tradition…so he slammed out of the apartment. They hadn’t talked since. Just a few brief texts. What if he called it off? What if he didn’t show up?

  
“Sometimes, you just need to let things go, Castiel. I respect him. He’s not doing this because he expects to ever divorce you. He just doesn’t want people to see him as a gold-digger. He wants people to know he loves you for you…not your money. Let it go, Little Brother.”

  
Several minutes later, Sam and Dean came through the front door. He looked so handsome in the custom tuxedo. Dean spoke up to those gathered in their seats. “I need to talk to Cas for just a second. Don’t worry, we’ll be back.”

  
Heart sinking, Castiel followed Dean into the billiards room. Dean turned to him. “Cas, about last night…”

  
“I’m so sorry, Dean. The argument was stupid and I understand. Please don’t leave me.”

  
Shock registered on Dean’s face. “Leave you? God, Cas, is that what you were thinking?” He reached up to touch Castiel’s face. “I would never leave you. I just wanted to apologize for the fight. I shouldn’t have gotten so angry with you. Forgive me?”  
“Always.” Castiel’s heart resumed beating normally.

  
They were married in front of family, friends and several of New York’s firefighters. Their honeymoon was at one of Gabriel’s resorts in Hawaii. They came back home with tanned skin and happy memories.

  
And they lived happily ever after…with two children and three guinea pigs.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hope you enjoyed this. I expected it to be a short fluff piece and it turned into a story. I do believe in happily ever after, especially for these two.
> 
> I'm not sure how I feel about the ending, I hope you don't feel cheated, because it was short.


End file.
